I'm trying to get along better with Agnes. Some days are better than others. Some days I'm able to keep my cool even when she whines about her workload, and other days I just want to beat her until her toner starts to leak.
Agnes is my printer. She sits in a rectangular alcove in my office, underneath a florescent light. She's also a copier and fax machine. She's stubborn and temperamental, and can't handle more than nine #10 envelopes at a time, which is a nightmare when I'm doing a mail merge. (My boss wants me to write to every preacher in New York City. Do you know how many churches there are in New York City? A lot. And every single envelope has to be fed through the printer. 9 envelopes at a time, divided by, oh, 600 churches. Maybe more. Guess how long it will take me to print, stuff, and lick them all??)
I call her "Agnes" because she's taken on a life of her own. I don't mean like she's possessed the ghost of a dead Staples salesman or has learned to talk like R2D2. I mean I spend so much time working with her that she's more like a person than a machine. And when she's not working right, its so much more satisfying to say "Fuck you, Agnes" than it is to say, "Fuck you, HP Color Lasejet 2840!"
Maybe as time goes on, Agnes and I will become more accustomed to each other, but I do wish she would pull her weight a little more. It would be great if she could handle--gasp--ten envelopes at once...
