In My Defense, it Probably Wasn’t Even a Swingline

I killed the stapler. It literally saved my ass and I killed it. We had JUST had the conversation yesterday about how these folks order all sorts of expensive office supplies like staplers every year like they are running away from the desks or somehing – now I have to get a new one for the hall office because I dropped it on the bathroom floor.

I should back up.

It turned out to be one of those days (happens a lot in student affairs) where you dress nice because you are, you know, a professional. Then it turns out you are running around sweating, climbing, dragging, and otherwise being very messy and unladylike. Sometimes I know when those days are going to happen but mostly I don’t. Usually happens when I’m not wearing sensible shoes. Long story short – I crouched down to pick up some things and forgot I was wearing a shift dress with not a lot of give. RRRRIIIIIIIIIPPPP! All the way up to There.

I’m not in a building with my office or my apartment. That would be too convenient. My co-worker who does live there has ONE safety pin. How does one live in a place with only one safety pin? This is at least a three pin job. The office staff finds no safety pins in the office but she rattles off the supplies and I hear stapler. With a MacGyver glint in my eye, I grab the doomed stapler and run in the bathroom.

Oh, I’m so clever. This is going so well. Four staples and a safety pin, I am GOLDEN. I can even run some errands around campus and no one will ever know! Then I stand up, readjust my dress, and promptly drop the stapler on the tile where it smashes into more pieces than a healthy office supply should be. You ever look down at something that has broken and somehow feel if you pick it up really fast it will be less broken? Exactly that. Which popped ALL my fucking staples out.

But I still had that solo safety pin.

It didn’t really cover enough to pretend that something hadn’t gone horribly wrong back there, but at least I could make it home with less shame. Not that I really feel shame anymore. I work in housing – weird, embarrassing, ridiculous stuff is what we do.

“When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.” -Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

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About deepfriedyankee

I am a parade of one. A seeker of bathtubmarys. A lover of Mardi Gras, bacon and marbles. I have the patience of a saint. A very, very flawed saint.
This entry was posted in college, Humor, Life, Residence Life, Student Affairs and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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