It’s official. I’m awful at regular blogging.
I feel like it’s been too long since I shared a Roommate Tasia story (like that one time we were looking for a bible study and ended up not-where-we-expected-to-be).
Here we go.
Our printer — the little one we share custody of in our shared bedroom — has been out of ink for going on two weeks. So most of the semester, you know, what with the printing of syllabi and then updated syllabi whenever the professor admits to their mistakes…
(or is that just me?).
This morning, we decided that, hey, we get about $8.00 worth of free prints every semester, automatically charged to our student accounts. Why not take advantage? I’d never done that before, so I followed her to the library at the early hour of 8:00 AM (okay, maybe it was 9:00…)
where she led me to the very back corner of the computer lab.
Where the row of computers that she apparently usually sits at was completely gone.
The desks were there. But the computers were gone. While Tasia stood, staring, utterly confused, I walked around the desks to the next row and got logged on.
It took us all of ten minutes to log in, send our papers to print, log off, and walk over to the printing stations, where Tasia demonstrated the card swipe and the mouse clicking necessary to retrieve your prints.
Here’s the problem with grad school (according to Tasia): grad students are expected to do the reading of two undergrads in about half the time. So as Tasia’s 48 slides begin to print (one per page, as her professor uploads them in reader view only), the printer promptly overheats and starts blinking at us, telling us it was unhappy.
It jammed after about twelve slides.
Luckily, we were near one of the help desks in the library.
Unluckily, the person on front desk duty had vanished in the thirty seconds it had taken us to realize we needed help from someone with more power than we possessed.
The security office suggested we make our way to the official front desk, across the building, where books are checked out and students frantically ask for directions to their desired floor.
The girls at the front desk directed us to the IT room, around a corner and through the woods, to grandmother’s…wait.
IT Girl, as she will fondly be remembered, led us back to the computer lab, where Front Desk Lad had returned (making us look a little foolish).
Now, before Tasia and I trekked across the entire library (twice), I had set up a printer to print my prints,
which had not printed by the time we made our way back.
To hurry this tale along some: we ended up with two malfunctioning printers on our hands, and the nice Front Desk Lad led us to a couple of new ones,
which Tasia also managed to jam.
There we are: me, standing with my stack of CUIN worksheets, Tasia, with a handful of crinkled slides, and Front Desk Lad, trying to laugh but inwardly fighting the urge to slay us both for jamming half the printers in the computer labs.
We felt like battle-hardened warriors by the time we escaped — um. Left. Since then, I’ve decided to exploit the printers at work, and we swore a blood oath to never run out of ink at the apartment again, mostly to save us the humiliation of ever crossing the threshold of the computer lab whilst we remain students of UH.
(and now, back to the studies)