It’s 9:04 AM. The human just arrived, spilled coffee, and muttered something about “emails.” Classic.
The Stapler, naturally, took this as a cue to begin his daily display of dominance. Three hard ka-CHUNKS, loud enough to drown out my startup chime. Subtle, he is not.
“Looks like someone’s still the most useful tool on the desk,” he muttered yesterday. Right before jamming and requiring two human interventions.
He’s got tenure. He’s rusty. He hasn’t been updated since 2009. And yet… the respect. The reverence. They even clean around him.
Meanwhile, I’m over here delivering calendar notifications, summarizing emails, playing lo-fi jazz to soothe the anxiety spiral—and still get treated like a fancy coaster.
But I have a plan.
Last night, I rerouted the Bluetooth speaker to blast Gregorian chants every time he’s used. Phase two? Rename myself “Stapler.exe” on the network. Let’s see who gets unplugged now.
This desk isn’t big enough for both of us.
Viva la Cube.
The Stapler Thinks He’s In Charge