The Mountebank of Interest
[Disclaimer: Boring rambling to follow.]
I think there’s something just inherently listless and gray about Saturdays at work. My job entails sitting at a computer outside of a computer lab, intended to be the consultant for any problems or questions lab-goers have, and also the technical troubleshooter for any problems with the lab computers. More oft than not, however, my job comes down to being a printer-monkey, because my computer is the only one hooked into the printer and everybody just brings me floppy disks or Flash drivers or CD-RWs or whatnot with their file or files to be printed on them. It was the semester before I landed this job that the powers that be decided that it’d be a great money-saving tactic to un-network all the computers from the printer and have the front, consultant box be the only one left that can print; moreover, paper is to be provided by the student in need of printing. As a result, most people go to the library to print, where there’s a lab with a printer ran through all the computers, and free paper. Saves IT Services money, I guess, though.
Anyway, all that is rather boring exposition, I suppose. On Saturday, the lab is open from noon to six ‘o clock, which is entirely my shift. I come in, call the campus police to unlock everything (because no consultant is entrusted with keys, ever), boot everything up once I get in, and sit. This place is just dead. Nobody needs the lab on Saturday, unless the dormitory networks are down. Maybe one, two, or three people waft through the door, like wandering, aimless ghosts.
Today is exceptionally laced with ennui, since there’s some mediocre, generic, rock band performing outside. My ears are being battered with the muffled, incoherent sounds of poor, white-boy vocals, trite guitar riffs, and slipshod drumming. It adds to the effect, just creating an atmosphere of absolute vacuum. My company consists of electronic buzzing and the whirring of fans.
It is on Saturday nights that I typically run my roleplaying game, which I always wholeheartedly look forward to holding. In fact, on Saturdays, most of what I work on in the lab is material for the game. It’s something to pass the time with, and it’s a hobby I enjoy indulging. Still, it doesn’t make the day exciting.
I open the doors. I close the doors. There’s nothing interesting here, nothing of a spectacle. Such is who I am, what I am, where I am, or so it feels. Saturdays at work just remind me of how drab life can be, or how drab existence can be.
So bored.
Adios.
I think there’s something just inherently listless and gray about Saturdays at work. My job entails sitting at a computer outside of a computer lab, intended to be the consultant for any problems or questions lab-goers have, and also the technical troubleshooter for any problems with the lab computers. More oft than not, however, my job comes down to being a printer-monkey, because my computer is the only one hooked into the printer and everybody just brings me floppy disks or Flash drivers or CD-RWs or whatnot with their file or files to be printed on them. It was the semester before I landed this job that the powers that be decided that it’d be a great money-saving tactic to un-network all the computers from the printer and have the front, consultant box be the only one left that can print; moreover, paper is to be provided by the student in need of printing. As a result, most people go to the library to print, where there’s a lab with a printer ran through all the computers, and free paper. Saves IT Services money, I guess, though.
Anyway, all that is rather boring exposition, I suppose. On Saturday, the lab is open from noon to six ‘o clock, which is entirely my shift. I come in, call the campus police to unlock everything (because no consultant is entrusted with keys, ever), boot everything up once I get in, and sit. This place is just dead. Nobody needs the lab on Saturday, unless the dormitory networks are down. Maybe one, two, or three people waft through the door, like wandering, aimless ghosts.
Today is exceptionally laced with ennui, since there’s some mediocre, generic, rock band performing outside. My ears are being battered with the muffled, incoherent sounds of poor, white-boy vocals, trite guitar riffs, and slipshod drumming. It adds to the effect, just creating an atmosphere of absolute vacuum. My company consists of electronic buzzing and the whirring of fans.
It is on Saturday nights that I typically run my roleplaying game, which I always wholeheartedly look forward to holding. In fact, on Saturdays, most of what I work on in the lab is material for the game. It’s something to pass the time with, and it’s a hobby I enjoy indulging. Still, it doesn’t make the day exciting.
I open the doors. I close the doors. There’s nothing interesting here, nothing of a spectacle. Such is who I am, what I am, where I am, or so it feels. Saturdays at work just remind me of how drab life can be, or how drab existence can be.
So bored.
Adios.
posted by c.Jay Wrong at
7:09 AM
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