This week is finals week at my workplace, with all the chaos, wailing, and gnashing of teeth that implies. Here's a news flash, kiddo: unless you have the power to dilate time, you ain't squeezing everything you should know by now into eight hours at the library. It just ain't happening, son, I'm sorry. I've seen people trying to squeeze a whole semester's worth of videos into two class periods, and I can do little else but laugh. Openly. I've seen the exact moment of realization dawn on some poor fool's face when it finally clicks: "Hmm...maybe I'm not cut out to be a nurse/social worker/commercial landscaper/fill in your choice of vocation here." You can actually see their soul shrivel up and die as they next realize how much time and money they've been wasting. Then they get all contemplative, and you just know it would only take a little nudge to push them over the edge. My oh my, kids these days. The tutoring service is jumping like it never has all year, and while they are very good at what they do, sadly they're not miracle workers. They can only work with what they have, and sometimes it isn't that much, you know? How about we work on basic grammar or cutting and pasting documents, and leave surgical nursing for another day, whaddya say? But I suppose it's like a child's fingerpaintings in that it's rude to openly point out the deficiencies in public. The really amusing part is that all of a sudden we're trying to maintain a quiet study environment. All throughout the year so far: food and drink, cellphones, interpretative poetry jam sessions, orgies of destruction, anything goes. Now? Shh, not a sound. It must be really jarring for them, I think. What really gets me is that we ourselves are responsible for the loose tolerances. We can't very well tell someone not to eat in the library when we ourselves are chugging back the Tim Horton's and what have you in their faces. So, for the sake of some people's caffeine slavery, we have to be fair and consistent in our application of policy, only it's in the other direction of the lowest common denominator. This is why I have to straighten up at the end of every day like it's grade two, lack of boundaries. Some people just can't seem to afford public space the same respect they would their homes. Or if they do, then I shudder to think of their homes. Oh well, that's okay, I get to watch your souls shrivel up and die. Rethink that law career, genius, I think they still have some openings for pack mules and stevedores if you hurry.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment