Okay, I'll spare you the hackneyed poetry, but I do have to gush over my latest office crush. I have an automatic stapler at my desk that works just fine for most of the things I'm working on at my desk. But at our department (I'm at Vanderbilt's Department of Political Science), the graduate students and faculty are often printing out long articles or book chapters. Previously, we had two options. An automatic stapler that would work for up to 20 pages, or a bohemuth heavy duty stapler that sits like a tempermental dragon next to the copier. I am one of the few people who can tame the beast and make it work, but even with my coaxing, it wouldn't work well for less than 50 pages. That meant that for the many print outs that were between 20 and 50 pages, there was not a good way to staple them. We just had to use a bulky binder clip. It vexed me. Very much. Did I also mention that the automatic stapler was a little touchy itself - you had to put the paper in just the right way to get the sensor to trigger the staple. Again, I rarely experienced any problems with it because I tend to obsess on how to get things to work the best way they can. But others would get frustrated with it.
Well, I got my big chance to affect office morale when the automatic stapler recently died. It would no longer staple at all. Inside, I was cheering with glee, as I fired up the Staples.com site and searched for ''automatic stapler''. Because of budget constraints, I had to keep the cost similar to the same style of stapler we had before. But, I found one stapler that stood out in several ways from the competition. The Swingline Optima 45 Electric Stapler. Unlike almost other electronic stapler in this price range, it staples up to 45 sheets of paper. There are a few other cool features, but they weren't ones I was mainly basing my purchasing decision on. The look of it was a fun factor though - it is silver and has a red racing stripe that blinks when staples are low.
I unwrapped the stapler like a kid at Christmas a few weeks ago. Since then, I've had nothing but excited exclamations by co-workers who typically aren't that thrilled with office efficiency and smooth workings (aka, they aren't crazy in the same way I am). It works incredibly quietly and smoothly, right up to the paper limit. I want to tell all department admin staff to get one of these for their offices! Sadly, we don't have a way to share information like this with each other. Can you believe there isn't an administrative assistant connections email, blog, site, listserv, etc so we can share amazing finds, and not all of us have to reinvent the wheel each time? Of course, if I had my way, there would be a newsletter of some sort for many internal departments of Vandy to communicate to each other. Oh well.
So now, if your office is looking for a stand out electronic stapler, you know which one to choose!
Ode to an automatic stapler
A Little Red
Coming alive again at Christmas
A week ago, I moved into a new house, and into a new season of life. My environment impacts me emotionally, physically, intellectually, and spiritually. I know that many people aren't like this. They are impervious to external influences. But the very senses that jump at beauty and color, that invigorate with art and music and culture, that drive to organize, are equally struck dumb by the bleak, dreary, wan and unfixable.
In the Dickensian, tenement-like apartment I lived in for the past year, I felt my faculties shutting down in a drowning disappointment. I retreated into a cave of TV shows and movies to medicate the pain of having to live so poorly.
The possibility of moving into this house at first was a rainbow-sheened bubble thrown out by friends that I was afraid to hope in. When they mentioned it over and again, each time, I let myself have a little more excitement that it could happen. But I didn't want to believe it was really available until the moving plans became set.
Now, as I am surrounded in boxes and beginning to settle into this lovely, generous, happy home, my heart is coming alive out of the numbness. I am keyed up with excitement and possibilities.
I find my hurt heart also responding to God in this season of His love made flesh. The hurt and ache and inability to make sense of things is still there. But there is a stubborn thread tying that same heart to His, longing to feel secure in Him again, longing to know He is who He says He is, desperate to rest in the promises He gives that I have (almost) given up on as life doles out so much pain. Tears are close to the surface, but they are tears of a heart that is still alive and seeking her Savior. I am thankful for that strong thread. It is not anything I have done. It is a piece of me God placed there. I can no longer think that I see more clearly than an agnostic or atheist. "but for the grace of God, there go I'' - I understand now that my makeup from birth included this thread, and that is not the case for all. It is nothing I can take credit for or feel superior about, as I know I have done in the past. The poverty of spirit I've had the past years has taught me that much humility anyway. This is a digression though. What I am sharing about is the joy of feeling a stirring of hope and joy and blessedness again, of His word having some solace and interest again to me, of reading thoughts of others on this journey and wanting to proclaim them to all my friends as messages of towering visions of truth-and-hope in our darkness.
I went to McKay's used bookstore on Thursday and found myself there for 3 hours, maybe 4. So many books were speaking to me, or speaking to me about friends. I found a slim book of poems about Christmas, Kneeling in Bethlehem, by Ann Weems. I hadn't heard of Ann Weems before. But when I cracked open the volume randomly, I was caught up immediately. This $3 gift to myself is so rich; I want to write about 10 of the poems to friends! Let me share this very short one with you that especially brought the quick sting of tears and the ache for Him:
Yesterday's Pain
Some of us walk into Advent
tethered to our unresolved yesterdays
the pain still stabbing
the hurt still throbbing.
It's not that we don't know better,
it's just that we can't stand up anymore by ourselves.
On the way to Bethlehem,
will you give us a hand?
--Ann Weems
Merry Christmas dear friends.
Nights with Rogan
I wish I was good at taking pictures of my pets. But even if I were, I wouldn't be able to take a picture of the feline slinky that is my new cat, Rogan, at night. And cats are so hard to capture while they are relaxed and before they give you that evil glare.
Rogan is a long, lanky teenager. He is all of six pounds for all his length, so when I pick him up, it's amazing how light he is. Like most male teenagers, he can't eat often enough. He is pretty convinced he needs to eat every two hours. On the weekends, I give him many lectures on patience. But, because he's so into food, he is easy to teach tricks! He very quickly mastered standing up and reaching for the bowl before I put it down at night. Now, he'll stand up and tap my hand if I'm just holding a single piece of food. I'm working on teaching him to sit. I don't even have to use special treats - just his normal kibble works fine!
When I go to bed, he often jumps right up with me, and as soon as the light is out and I'm on my back, he delicately steps over the puffy down comforter to find my chest. At first, he stands on my, and I rub his sides and pet l-o-n-g strokes from his neck to his rump. His purr is a big rumble. Then, he relaxes to sitting. I like this step to go quickly, as his front paws can put a bit too much pressure on me. But I rub his neck a lot - he loves the area below his collar to be rubbed - and keep on petting him. As I get sleepy and still my hands, he relaxes to laying fully down, his head only inches from my chin, and it feels so snuggly. I just end up cupping his sides with my hands and feeling him purring while I relax too.
It usually takes me about half an hour to fall asleep, and this process is a great way to get myself to relax and calm down. Sometimes, I actually fall asleep on my back with Rogan laying on top of me! But most of the time, after about 15 minutes, I roll over to my side slowly, holding him so he doesn't fall, and then let him go his way. Though sometimes, he jumps back up and balances himself on my side! One night, as he was perched on my side, he fully relaxed and set his chin on my shoulder. It was the sweetest moment. Wouldn't that have been such a fun picture?!
I don't usually feel him again all night, though he's usually somewhere on the bed curled up.
BUT, as soon as the alarm goes off, he begins pattering over me and across me and putting his face very close to me and mewing, and sometimes, even tapping my face very quickly and very gently with one paw ''hello? Food? Remember food? let's go!''
He's pretty put out when I hit the snooze button.
And once I get up, the urgency hits a much greater level. I usually head straight to the bathroom, so he keeps up his routine of coming in and out of the bathroom, unable to sit still, urgently mewing and murmuring for food.
Luckily, he doesn't have a loud or piercing meow. I talk back with him, and finally feed him, and he tackles his dish like he's been starving. Then, he's happy as a clam, perched on the arm of a stuffed chair where he can look out the window, his morning post.
It's so good to have a cat in one's life. A good cat. A sweet cat with tilted up green eyes, who is all pink and orange and white. Who will one day learn to love having the base of his ears kissed, where the fur is sooooo soft and warm and tender.
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