• Mood: relieved
• Music: Jars of Clay, "Crazy Times"

Attack of the machine

I skipped my shower yesterday morning. Not newsworthy, I know, but that's where the day started jumping the track. I'd gotten up later than I wanted to, and since it was a day of tying up loose ends with no scheduled meetings, I thought I could duck in, hit it hard, and make a short day of it, zipping home to clean up and get a bit of downtime before joining barlow_girl for dinner. The day, however, had other plans.

Two friends independently stopped by the office to catch up a bit, time I was glad to spend. The kicker came when, already behind where I planned to be, the copier decided to stage a revolt. Thursday is the worst day for this to happen, because it's the last workday I have to get copies made for Sunday (I can come in on Friday in a pinch, but chances are that, unless a repair technician can pull a rabbit out of his hat, we've already screwed the pooch by then). And this was perhaps the worst Thursday for a problem, because I also had to copy books and handouts for Saturday's Intro seminar for people interested in membership. I suspect the copier knew this.

So much the rest of the day consisted of restarting the copier, clearing paper jams, and making copies in sets of ten while also trying to complete payables and payroll, tidy up the office for Saturday, and run errands for Sunday. It gobbled up all of my margin and most of my patience, but the job got done and all is well (aside from the casualty of Thursday dinner with Amy). Were I a superstitious man, I'd think I got my Friday the 13th out of the way early.