The Copy Gods hate me. I will find them and hurt them.

What have I done that is so heinous that I deserve this????????

Copier update: Eight service calls to Xerox in 7 days, seven of them about the same stinking machine. The tech guy has been in four times in the last five days, spending hours each time trying to coax the damned things to breathe on their own. He was here today when I got back from lunch (the one freaking time I've left) and proclaimed that both are now working. They both did work. For maybe an hour.

This morning the "good" copier suddenly dropped dead, giving an error message that said something about a fatal fault in the motor. Fortunately, rebooting it started it breathing on its own again, so I loaded it up again.

The tech guy did have the other one working when he left around 2. It was quiet, it was productive, it didn't smear the toner, it wasn't jamming. I breathed a sigh of relief and had both going at the same time--for one hour. Then, the "bad" one simply stopped dead and indicated that it won't make any more copies until the xerographic module is replaced. Shit. It's supposed to display that message for at least 10 days before it dies so one has time to order and receive the part. Evidentally the cannibalizing I'd done for the last ten days screwed up that part so I got no warning. I did receive a xero module yesterday, but it went into the "good" copier that had been displaying that freaking message for ten freaking days.

I called Xerox customer service. The kind lady gave me a code to enter which would give me an extra 5000 copies and might tide me over until the replacement module arrived. Theoretically. Because it didn't f^cking work.

I stayed an hour late trying to get things that were absolutely necessary to the continued survival of civilization, at least those needed by 1 p.m. tomorrow when "back to school" day starts and parents start coming in to listen to teachers, receive papers from them, and promptly forget/lose everything. I took jobs that came in at the last minute, such as, oh, 55 minutes after my scheduled quitting time and finished them. Damn, I'm good, even with one hand tied behind my back and one leg cut off.

I just now checked my email, and there's a polite note from a teacher wondering why she hadn't gotten the copies that she dropped off yesterday to be done today. I can't be positive because I can't remember what I did or did not see/copy after the thousands of copies I made today, but I don't remember seeing her copies, and I did every job that was on the shelf for yesterday and today. I replied without resorting to cursing or even sounding defensive, and I'll check the billions of copy requests to see if I can find her papers in the morning. I go in at the usual time, so with any luck I'll have three hours before the teachers show up.

As late as 3 this afternoon, I was telling people that I'm not stressed at all, as long as one copier is working, I can finish up everything needed by Monday morning when the little dears eagerly dash into the school to start yet another ride on the merry-go-round.

I'm stressed now. I think that I'll burst into tears and sob dramatically every time someone asks if their copies are done. That might at least keep them from talking to me.