Attention

July 2025

At 8:30 a.m. I am typically at my desk in the office. Today is no different. I always start the day turning on my Dell Optiplex GX1 desktop computer, logging on, and checking emails.

I type in my email and password to log in.

I always notice the satisfying mechanical clack clack of the keys as the force of my fingers presses each down, followed by the key’s return to its steady state position. The force exerted against my finger by the key seems to ramp steadily with the key’s displacement—it really is a satisfying resistance. I also notice that the loudness of the clack corresponds to how hard I press down. Naturally, my pinkie finger presses the softest—it is not only the weakest finger but is also usually stretched out the furthest away from my hand to reach the key it needs to strike, making it challenging to hit the key with much force. Some keystrokes are loudest from my pointer finger, but the middle finger generally produces the loudest and most satisfying clack. One might guess the spacebar would produce the best, most satisfying sound, but this is wrong. I believe this is due to its length; there is some play to the spacebar when it actuates, causing it to rub slightly on neighboring keys, producing a sort of flimsy, gravelly sound compared to the smaller buttons. All of this is in spite of my thumb striking the keyboard with the most force of any finger. Perhaps if the designers added more out-of-plane support and stiffer springs to the spacebar, it would have a more rigid feel and cleaner feedback.

I am now logged in. Every morning at least twenty emails reach me during the period when I last logged off—usually around 5:30 p.m. the previous day—to when I check in the morning. Mostly these are mass, organization-wide emails sent to the entire IRS, or automated training due date reminders, or deadline reminders, or compliance reminders, or IT messages informing me of security measures and digital best-practices to follow. There is only rarely something in these messages that is extremely critical, but I am sure to fastidiously read each one of them just to be sure. This usually takes about an hour and a half. Today is no different.

I have a meeting at 10:30 this morning. With half an hour to space, I figure I should walk to the kitchenette and get a coffee. As I walk over, I am reminded of the new floors just installed about a month or so ago. My slightly heeled dress shoes produce a clip-clop as the heel makes contact with the ground, followed shortly by the toe of each shoe. The floor is made to look like some sort of tile, but I believe it is the same type of vinyl as the previous floor. It looks and feels like a thicker polyurethane clear coat was added to the new floor, perhaps to prevent scratching. The scratching on the previous floor was, I suspect, ultimately why the facilities manager decided to replace it. The new floor is a two-colored pattern: one off-white and one a sort of faded burgundy. The old tile was off-white and a sort of forest-green, though the white had turned a bit yellowish with time, making the color decision for the new floors surprising to me. Perhaps the more robust protective coat will prevent this on the new white tiles.

Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop.

I am in the kitchenette. A person is sitting at one of the small tables in the back corner of the room and says “Good morning” to me.

I say “Good morning” back. I pull a white mug off the shelf. It’s a typical porcelain mug—but not one of those super thick ones with the almost cartoonishly rounded brim one encounters at greasy-spoon diners. This is a more standard, thin, cylindrical mug that one might find in a normal home. It says “Internal Revenue Service” on its side and bears the insignia of our organization.

I fill up my coffee from the large coffee dispenser on the counter. It is one of those dispensers that has the pump lever mechanism at the top. I used to pump it quite rapidly up and down when dispensing coffee, but have lately been experimenting with a lower pump frequency—it turns out you can hold it down for five, six, even close to ten seconds sometimes with coffee still coming out—maybe there is some sort of positive pressure generated by the single pump of the lever that pushes it up to the nozzle. It actually comes out less bubbly this way compared with vigorously pumping the lever.

I fill my coffee with just two pumps. I put my mug down and feel the weight of the water filter that sits next to the coffee dispenser. It needs refilling. I open the top and fill a glass of water in the sink. I pour this glass into the top of the filter. Repeating this six times allows me to fill it about half way.

I actually purchased this water filter for the office with my own funds when the old one broke. Facilities estimated that it would take three to four months to fill out the Equipment Retirement Form, find an approved vendor for the new filter’s purchase, and get approval to order it, so I bought and brought this one. People in the office were, and are, very grateful for it. Many people—maybe everyone in the office—use it, but few take the time to fill it. I like to make sure there is always filtered water available, so I am sure to fill it whenever I notice it running low. After filling it with six glassfuls I pick up my coffee and proceed to my meeting. The person in the chair says to me as I leave, “Hey, thanks for that,” motioning to the filter.

I smile to myself and say to her, “You’re welcome. Happy to do it.”

I take a seat in the meeting room at 10:29 a.m. at one of the large black office chairs. I am immediately disappointed at my seat selection because I picked the one chair in this room that has a single sticky wheel. All the other wheels roll smoothly, so any movement made while seated in the chair causes the whole thing to unintentionally rotate about the stuck wheel instead of gliding smoothly in the direction of the force exerted. Perhaps the bearings in the wheel are clogged with dirt, dust, hair, and other particulates. Or the bolt running through the wheel is too tight, adding friction to the system. I am interrupted by my name being repeated, “Mr. Wallace…Mr. Wallace…” says one of the floating heads that appears before me in the room as I look up from inspecting my suboptimal chair.

“How is the Paper Purchasing Requirements project going? When can we expect it to be done?”

“It is going well. I’m working on the purchasing flow chart for employees to use. It will give them an easy way to make sure their paper purchases for the premises meet the necessary requirements set by the District of Columbia’s Office of Organizational Environmental Sustainable Compliance (DCOOESC). I suspect I will be done in three to four months.”

“That soon?” The head asks incredulously with raised eyebrows. “That would be excellent. Anything else, Mr. Wallace?”

“No, that’s my main focus right now.”

They continue with updates around the table but I become focused on the rate of heat transfer I feel from my hand to the cold glass table in front of me. The glass and the felt fabric of my chair were the same temperature when I came in, so why does the glass feel so much colder? It can’t be the temperature itself, must be the rate of heat transfer, the thermal conductivity, if you will.

People start getting up to leave, I take that as a cue that the meeting is presumably adjourned. I stop by the kitchenette on the way back to my desk to check on the water filter. Surprisingly, it’s already almost empty. Glad I came by to check. Most people who come to get water, upon finding the filter empty, would simply fill their bottle up with tap water. I wouldn’t want that as the water is pretty bad here in D.C.—so it’s lucky I checked when I did.

I fill it to the brim this time before returning to my desk.

At my desk once again, I get to work on the paper flow chart. I proofread what I had written at the top of the instruction page earlier this week:

The District of Columbia requires by law that the Internal Revenue Service office in the District:

1. Purchases paper products that contain a minimum percentage of certified recycled content (percentage requirements for various paper products are laid out in document 70-666-E) given that these products satisfy the following criteria:

a. They are available at the same or lower cost than analogous non-recycled products

b. Their fitness and quality is equal to or greater than analogous non-recycled products

2. Obtains written certification from all vendors that all printing and writing paper sold to the IRS are fully approved and eligible to be labelled with a District of Columbia 100% recyclable label.

3. Keeps paper and electronic records of all paper product purchase invoices that corroborate the fulfillment of the above requirements.

Now, my next task is to develop the purchasing flow charts for people in the office to use in order to help them remain compliant with these rules when buying paper for the office. The flow chart will have a series of simple yes/no questions that the purchaser can answer and follow to figure out the proper process for paper purchasing.

I pull out a piece of paper from the briefcase at my right side and lay it flat on the desk in front of me. It is recycled paper, of course, but it looks like this sheet might not be of the same fitness and quality as its non-recycled analogue. I can see small changes in transparency in different areas along the sheet. Perhaps the raw pulp used for this batch of paper is of lower quality than a non-recycled batch. How should one assess the “fitness and quality” of these paper products against their non-recycled counterparts? Certainly there is a measurable difference in the homogeneity of color and thickness of this paper when compared to others, but maybe that is just this brand, or even this batch we purchased. This question remains unresolved for the moment.

I drop my pen to the paper, sketching out some questions and prompts for the eventual flow chart document.

Determine the minimum percentage of certified recycled content required for the paper product you intend to purchase.

Is there a product available that meets the necessary recycled content minimums and is not of greater cost than non-recycled products, and has fitness and quality equal to non-recycled product?

If yes: If there is no data or documentation previously stored for this product within the IRS file sharing system, screenshot the information showing the percentage of recycled content in the product description and upload it to the Recycled Content Product Documentation folder at: Shared_IRS:\Forms\Paper Product Purchase Project Compliance\Recycled Content Product Information. Name the file by the name of the product so that it can be later connected to the product invoice.

If no: Complete the Recycled Content Paper Product Purchasing Form and check the box with the reason why a recycled content product was not purchased. Save this in the Recycled Paper Environmental Qualified Exemption Documentation folder: Shared_IRS:\Forms\Paper Product Purchase Project Compliance\Recycled Content Product Information Qualified Exemption Forms. Name the file by the name of the product so that it can be later connected to the product invoice.

Now, after completing this, answer the following: Does the IRS have an official, notarized District of Columbia vendor certification form on file certifying this product is 100% recyclable?

If yes: Purchase paper product and then: Copy the paper product invoice to the “paper spec and compliance" folder in Shared_IRS:\Forms\Paper Product Purchase Project Compliance. If the product does not meet recycled content requirements, double check that the backup form is attached to the invoice with the reason why a recycled content product was not purchased.

If no: Have vendor sign form or utilize another vendor that already has a signed form on file for that specific paper product (i.e. Team/Group Manager). If getting a new form signed, add it to the certification folder and add it to the tracking spreadsheet: Shared_IRS:\Forms\Paper Product Purchase Project Compliance\Vendor Certification Forms. Note: Team/Group Manager should have already completed a compliance form for most of their paper products sold in the District of Columbia. Purchase paper product and then: Copy the paper product invoice to the “paper spec and compliance" folder in Shared_IRS:\Forms\Paper Product Purchase Project Compliance. If the product does not meet recycled content requirements, double check that the backup form is attached to the invoice with the reason why a recycled content product was not purchased.

My, how the time has gotten away from me. It’s nearly 3:30 p.m. and I haven’t eaten lunch. I walk back to the kitchenette—clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop. Has the tile changed color since the morning? No, it must simply be the change in lighting due to the sun coming in through the west-facing windows. I retrieve my sandwich from the refrigerator. Bacon, lettuce and tomatoes on rye. I considered sourdough this weekend at the store but decided against it, maybe next week.

I carefully unwrap the cellophane wrapping from the sandwich, placing the sandwich on a plastic plate from the shelf and the wrapper in the trash. I take a seat at the table in the far corner of the room. There is one chair at this table, facing out from the corner. There used to be two, but some time ago I moved it to the other table in the room—there are now three chairs at that table and only a single chair at this one. I like to eat my lunch alone and before moving the second chair, people would sit at the table with me from time to time, requiring me to entertain a conversation. Moving the chair has resolved this issue for the time being.

I finish my sandwich and check on the filter. Almost empty again. Good thing I didn’t come too much later. I remove the lid and carefully transfer twelve cups of water from the tap to the filter without spilling so much as a drop. The reservoir is completely full. Just as I finish, someone comes in with a water bottle to fill, lid already off and everything. “Hiya,” he says. I smile and step aside, motioning to the filter.

“Thanks,” he says, filling his bottle, “and thanks for filling that!”

“My pleasure.”

“Bye now,” he says, walking back to his cubicle.

I smile again and begin to top off the filter. His bottle looked to be a liter, or maybe a liter and a half. Two cups should do. I carefully return the lid to the filter, rinse the glass, and place it on the drying rack.

Back at my desk I proofread the questions and prompts I had sketched out. They are looking fairly good, I only make a few minor corrections. I finish the day by checking my emails for twenty or so minutes and then pack my things.

On the way out, I am sure to stop by the kitchenette to top off the water filter before heading home. I’ll be interested to see how relatively full or empty it is in the morning.