The Fall semester is winding down. Actually, it's falling apart, melting down, whatever you want to call it. Everyone is sick. Students are run down and ready to go home. Staff want them to go home even more. We normally have weird situations and conversations in here, but we are operating at a Friday level by Wednesday.
I called someone a smartass earlier and I defended the professionalism of doing so by claiming that if a swear is part of a larger word, it's not a swear; like smartass, or jackass. The staff and several tutors then discussed whether or not you could do this by combining two swears, like "Fuckass." I'm not sure.
There is a bell and a crazy handclapper that we ring and clap when getting students to register. I have the bell under my close watch because it drives me crazy. One time I threw it. I hid the handclapper between my cubicle and the wall. My boss asked me where it was to which I responded "I have NO idea!" I may have to dig it out, because apparently she bought it and now she's threatening to buy more.
Our student worker slept for 20 minutes last night, so she is fitting in just fine with the staff today. I had her working on a project in Photoshop. She forgot to save. It crashed. Whoops. So she yelled at the computer.
"You have learned the lesson of yelling things out loud."
A student came in and was talking to the student worker about working in restaurants. He then said to Jenny, in front of another student "I should just go to the gym and become a stripper" and then flicked one of his shirt buttons open. Lost it. Weird, he has my same career goals. I didn't think I had anything in common with the students.
Then the flying monkey came out. I flung it at Jenny.
"Was that really necessary?"
"Is any interaction we ever have REALLY necessary?"
I missed hitting a student coming in to test by seconds. Oh well, next time. Between the monkey sound, the giggling, the yelling, and the running around, I'm not sure she wanted to be dropped off with us.
I have decided that our office is like the class in Finding Nemo.
We work. We just don't function well.