As I carefully lift the ream of paper, still warm from the printer and walk briskly back to my office, I know I have a problem. These words which I have steadily crafted and edited into my research proposal over the last two months will be too much for the tiny but valiant purple stapler on my desk. But where am I going to find an industrial strength stapler at 7 o’clock at night I wonder. I’m still musing over this quandary back in my office as I pry the useless metal prongs from their final resting place, half way through my research proposal. Pathetic.
Luckily inspiration strikes, I remember that the next assignment office over has an automatic stapler. How could I forget that contraption given the numerous times I have dangled a paper apprehensively under it, waiting for it to snap down at any moment with an efficient BANG! So with this in mind I find myself bundling on my coat and heading back out into the cold night air. It’s odd walking through the courtyards devoid of students and the bustle of campus life. But it isn’t until I climb the stairs and spy the stapler safely ensconced behind glass that I realise my night-time wanderings have been in vain.
I check my watch, it’s later than I had thought so I figure I might as well try the staplers in the faculty office. At least these should be more efficient than my mini-stapler. Nevertheless, all I succeed in doing is peppering my proposal with more holes and scaring myself by mistaking the sound of my book bag bumping against the cupboard for someone knocking at the window. It’s then that I think to try the library. It’s a Thursday night, so it might be open at this hour and short of leaving a ream of loose paper in the pigeon holes of each of my three thesis committee members, it’s my last shot. Another night-time stroll through the campus later and I am welcomed by the sight of the library, positively hiving with students. I’m cheered to see I am certainly not the only one left on campus and head over to the automatic stapler. In a matter of seconds and with a satisfying clang it neatly gathers together each of my three stacks of paper. Maybe I’ll get out of here tonight after all!
Retracing my steps I make my way back up to faculty offices and hear a noise behind the door where the pigeon holes are. It turns out I’m also not the only psych student roaming the halls at this hour. Behind the door is a grad student I know. We chat for a bit and then I scan the rows for the right pigeon holes, finally depositing the copies of my research proposal. Sadly though, my journey has not yet ended. I’ve a trek ahead of me because I’ve had to park miles away in the car park affectionately nicknamed Bora Bora. I make it there at last though and arrive home by 8:45, pleased in the knowledge I’ve achieved a major milestone and even happier knowing that I can work from home tomorrow. After dinner and watching Men In Black, I head to bed, hoping fervently that staplers do not feature in my dreams!