Dead People and All their Fucking Money

So the big, bad company way uptown has me proofreading hundereds of pages of auction items (includig the the vomit-inducing values) from a dead person's estate. Let me just say, we're talkin' millions. And I swear to god, if someone is actually willing to pay thousands of bucks for an "American folk art" Flying pig weathervane (and yes, the pig is wearing little aviator goggles and a leather cap)...I will die myself. Also, I didn't think it was possible to misspell "caviar serving dish with spoon" but apparently I was gravely mistaken. So the job is as boring as hell and way too ironic considering my current financial situation...And my supervisor just happens to share the same name (first and last and the same exact spelling of both!) of a certain J-school professor that made me suffer through hours of her annoying voice, oh and journalism history. There was however, no evidence of said professor in my super's office. I checked all photos on her desk and examined her face for any sign of relation. None. I almost brought up the coincidence, but I chose not to. Probably a good thing, but still...it's too fucking eerie.