Sometimes the copier at work gets persnickety. It curls and flips papers, and sometimes the result is best described as hellish sculpture.
In my experience, its mischief is directly proportional to the operator's distance from the machine. Have I mentioned that my office is downstairs and the copier is upstairs?
Even if I sprint, once the misbehavior has started, at least a couple of the packets will be wacky.
I should probably explain that my copier jobs tend to be the copier equivalent of a barrista's nightmare.
Today it was fourteen sets of a nine-page (double-sided) corner-stapled document.
I think it got half of the sets OK, and the rest were set straight with a bit of hand sorting and stapling.
Still, I am grateful for this complicated machine that saves me tons of time when it is behaving--especially since I don't have to drive to Kinko's or go through a printer cartridge every four days.
And it gives me a reason to sprint when I might otherwise sit complacently at my desk.
And let's not forget the creative outlet as I consider non-cursing ways of expressing my frustration.
Best of all, any amount of printer craziness on a Thursday beats even the smallest paper jam on a Sunday morning.