Meanwhile, in the Library…

Just in case you don’t believe that the following conversation happened when I was trying to print my stuff, here. I took a screenshot of my other mailbox.


EMAIL NUMBER ONE                                                                     

This blog post actually is an email I’m writing to myself as I sit in here in Nease Library waiting for the printer to get fixed. “Surely there’s another printer in the library!” you may say. Yes, there is, I will tell you. But the printers upstairs have taken it upon themselves to print one page every 45 seconds. This is in no way conducive to my finals week, as I have a 34-page story to print before 7 o’clock tonight. Plus other things I need to have printed.

Ugh, this sucks.

Consequently, here I am, sitting in the computer lab looking like I’m typing up a very important email to someone who is not me, but is. And they’re doing their darndest to fix the printer. Props to librarians and techies everywhere.

Why did I start writing this? I don’t know, really. Maybe I needed something to do to occupy my time. It’s working rather well, seeing how no one is giving me odd looks. I have no more papers to write, but to the people around me, this could be the correspondence that determines one of my grades in the long run.

HA. I love this.

I don’t really know what to do. I’ve got a lot to print, and I’m stuck at a crossroads–print upstairs….

IT’S WORKING. Okay, I’ll talk to you people later.

C.M. is OUT.

EMAIL NUMBER TWO                                                                        

Well, much to my chagrin, I’m continuing looking important as some people hog the printer and continue to irritate me.

The printer room in the computer lab is about the size of a shed. A small shed. One you open and find mummified rat skulls, centipedes, earwigs, and all manner of crawly things that make you go, “ERP.” I have a lot of important things to do, and these people…they’re printing one thing at a time very slowly. And sitting there and talking. This is quickly becoming a rant, I realize, but I have nothing else to do but sit here and look busy until I can print the rest of my stuff.

Thank God, they’re gone! Okay, I’ll post this later.

C.M. is once again OUT.

EMAIL NUMBER THREE                                                                  

It turns out that from my vantage point, they were not, in fact, gone. They were, in fact, sitting in the doorway where I couldn’t see them and blocking my path. *insert eye twitches and calm breathing*

Anyway, I still hesitate to take my business upstairs, but seeing how they’re busily being slow, I feel no choice but to relocate.


EMAIL NUMBER FOUR                                                                   

Here I am writing from the computers upstairs, and I suppose that they’ve fixed the printer.

*initiate fist pump and celebratory music*
FINAL NOTE                                                    
So what ended up happening, ultimately, was that when I moved upstairs, the printer indeed worked. But it worked more slowly than a snail coated in liquid nitrogen and told to move through partially-frozen molasses. I got everything printed, but that, dear hearts, is how I shall furthermore entertain myself when stuck in a library somewhere.

Twopence for your thoughts (they're worth more than a penny here).

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