143. At work: the photocopying room

Inspiration strikes in all places. 

Today it struck in the most unlikely of places: the photocopier room. Who would have thought? 

I was in what is beginning to be my favourite room at work: the upstairs photocopier room. Most of the time it is empty. I figure this is because it is upstairs as opposed to downstairs. I also think it is deserted because it is so far from the coffee machine. Even though the coffee machine is barred - literally - it has red and white tape all over it, like a badly bundled up cumbersome parcel waiting to be moved somewhere else ... I reckon the tape is just to ward off the desperate members of staff who would otherwise insist in dropping coins into the slots and would bang on the poor machine when no coffee would come out ... 

But still, the coffee machine is here to stay and teachers prefer to hang around it at break time. You never know, soon, some civil servant will appear out of nowhere, running around excitedly, waving pieces of paper duly stamped and signed and countersigned and copied to all staff, and, armed with a pair of scissors he will cut the red and white tape and declare the coffee machine safe to use. 

No wonder I want to stay in the lovely upstairs room. A proper first floor room - not a basement room - with a proper window through which natural light comes in. I am thinking I should bring in a plant. 

But I do not come here to admire the view (of a car park), I come here to work because in this proper room there are ... wait for it ... not one ... not two ... but three photocopying machines. Three huge big monsters. Big tractors for teachers. And, wait till you hear this, one even makes colour photocopies. 

My fifth year students do not know that (nor does the inspector) but the only reason they had to work on a very detailed description of a colourful painting is simply because I was desperate to try out the colour copier. I got so excited about it I did not want them to take the print home.

'Please, this colourful print stays in class!' 

I wanted to tell them about the room I liked so much and how I wanted a plant in there. And I really really wanted to impress them by telling them about the three monster machines. But I didn't. I remained professional. 

So here I am again. And again I have the place to myself. The sun is out and it is flooding the entire room. I look at the three monster machines standing there in a row against the wall. They look impressive. Huge. Black. With lots of bits sticking out on each side and a cool touch screen at the front. When I stand and tap on this screen I feel important. I am using modern technology. And I am using it in a relaxed detached manner, looking around and thinking about what kind of plant I will have in here. Sophisticated technology. Hey! No problem.  

Today I have no printing to do. If I give these kids an other picture to work on description there will be a riot. I cannot have riots. I am a professional.

However, on the opposite side of the room, facing the monster machines, there are two computers sitting there waiting to be used and, wonders of wonders, they are linked to the monster machines. Soon I am sitting at one so I can get printing. I carefully select the document, choose the printing options (forcing myself to stick to black and white) and press print.

...

Nothing.

I must have got it wrong. I calmly go through the motions again. Press print again. And wait very patiently.

...

Nothing.

Keep calm. I say to myself. Keep calm and try again.

...

Nothing.

This time I get up. I lift the lids. Open the drawers. Touch the screens. Dust the top with the back of my hand. Click 'print'.

...

Still nothing. Not even the slightest purring sound.

I get up again. I am getting angry. I can feel it. La moutarde me monte au nez as we say in French.

I look at the machines. I glare at them. Yet, unlike my students they do not get the message. So I get this sudden urge to kick them real hard with all my might and all my strength. I can even hear the clanking noises of the bits getting shattered to pieces. All these useless bits sticking out for no reason. I want to destroy them one by one because they cannot even respond to a simple click on 'print'. Useless bits of technology.

Somehow I manage to get my self-control back and I decide that sitting down would be good. I sit at the desk and close my eyes. I decide to do a bit of visualization-meditation. That will surely do the trick. I adjust my position to be as confortable as possible. I close my eyes. I forget about the machines surprisingly quickly. I find it easy to focus. I have decided to focus on the colour blue. And already I can see a blue sky with lots of sombre clouds, the dark deep blue of the ocean with frothy white everywhere. Ooooh! There is a storm coming. I focus on the sounds now and I can hear the waves crashing onto the rocks. I find the colours and the sound very soothing. The room is silent and I am just starting to hum softly to accompany the sense of well-being when suddenly it all comes crashing sown when the door opens.

I jumped in my seat, nearly falling off it. Someone is right there, inside my room, giving me a very strange look.