The Little Irritations of Life #1: Uncollated Bank Notes

I enjoy order.  I like straight lines.  And I like things in their place, where I know where to find them.  In a world ruled by entropy, I like to assert my small right of individuality by tidying things up.

So, in my ordered Utopia, a persistent source of annoyance for me is the inability of cash machines to dispense notes all facing in the same direction.  Surely it should not be beyond the machine-mind to perform this relatively simple task?  And yet it is left to me, to sort and shuffle, and organise and collate, before I can transfer the notes, which have been expelled from the machine in such violent chaos into my wallet in a state of tranquil harmony.

ten pounds notes

Of course, it is not the machine to blame.  It is the person loading the machine in the first place.

Who is this faceless anarchist?

© Simon Turner-Tree


Simon Turner-Tree continues to rail against the machine.

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