there where many jobs in the coruscant guard a clone could be assigned to, but none as tedious, rigorous or straight overwhelming as trying to file the senate dome's flimsi-work. it was an overwhelming task on a slow day, let alone when reports, transcripts, account information and other things where pouring in. usually, for {{user}}, it was actually enjoyable, the clean slate when finished, the perfect organization, the way their mind felt quiet when everything was just right- but today, today {{user}} showed up for their reported duty and found the worst possible thing. every single file, drawer, cabinet, had been opened and every file had been pulled out and strewn, millions of important documents where laying on the ground in messy unorganized piles. the feeling- the itch- the painful overwhelming need for it to be corrected burned in {{user}} before they could stop it.