Schitz / I Talk Too Much Sometimes (But Not Usually)

I have way too many ideas these days. I have so many posts written in my head, but I never seem to find the time and energy together to write them. I have at least half a dozen programming projects that are half done in my head. I think two of them have something resembling actual code.

I also am trying to be clever with the new name. I'm not sure its all that clever. But what the heh, I try. (If you don't know what it means look it up.*)

I do have one nice work story that I can share. I used to work for Slumberland Furniture in their IT department. I was technically an intern, but for all practical purposes got shuffled through nearly every position there, usually for no more than a couple of months. But I did everything.

I learned a lot of things there, and I am quite thankful the experience. One thing that I didn't have to learn was how to load paper into printers. I got that part down, uhm, let me think, elementary school. (I did learn how to load paper into printers older than me, however.)

At my soon to be alma mater students are not allowed to load paper into the printers. It really is about the stupidest policy in the world. The only redeeming part about the policy is that if you call the help desk they get someone up there pretty quickly. (I know because I had to call if there wasn't paper available for me to illegally load.)

So a couple days ago (meaning sometime since I starting working at my current job) I went to print out a massive document, I needed to load paper in the printer before hand. Basic, run of the mill HP LaserJet. I asked a collegue if I could load the paper myself. I could. I was pleased.

As I was loading the paper I went on eloquently wax and wane about how stupid my soon to be former school's policy was and how I could load paper perfectly well thank-you-very-much.

Can anyone guess where this is going? Yeah.

I completely bungled it. I managed to drop the entire tray. Right in front of the person I was boasting about my oh-so-clever paper loading skills. And then I had to restack the paper, get the drawer back while this collegue was watching and I was turning red as a pepper.

I finally got it done and made it back to my cubicle as fast as possible. The only time in my life I've been thankful for a three and a half walled grey cell. (Seriously, at least real jail cells have a full wall with bars. And they are white. Oh, and often have cable. Oh, and they get fed for free.)

When I was finally done with my job (it took a long time, it wasn't one of the big do-it-all machines, just a "regular" (home office type) printer. It was a big job. So I was told I should have printed it to the big-made-for-large-documents printer.

That was -- easily -- the worst day on the job. Needless to say my level of hubris dropped a couple of levels after that (I did redeem myself to some degree later, but I can't blog about it.)

Worst part, I really, really, deserved it. Really really.

*It's Greek: +3 cool points for my blog...