This Is Why I'm Like This: Dogs Who Sing With Wind Chimes and the Laminator

   I am struggling to write what is necessary and true, whilst avoiding the white noise mantras overrunning social media. I want to rediscover the "funny" in my writing, but struggle to find topics.  As I spent an entire year dealing and not dealing with being a language arts teacher, I sliced my hand on the paper cutter and  that was, apparently, just the opening act. Yesterday I returned to school a day after pin hole gum surgery because I was bored and the country was arguing again and I just wanted to have control over something, anything, after a day in bed recovering. I wanted to laminate and post my new door art, which serves two purposes: one, it tells the kids it's my room. My colleagues all have over door posters that reflect who they are, from "Throw Kindness Around Like Confetti" to V For Vendetta. This summer I procured The Perfect Poster for me. Carrie Fisher as Princess Leia, with one word "REBEL", at the bottom. I have been looking forward to mounting this on my classroom door all summer. The Second purpose is to cover the small window in the door, which we are instructed to do so that a shooter cannot see into the classroom. Because if they can't see us we don't exist and they won't come in, but push a chair against the locked door in case they do come in. Some classrooms have a small blind on the inside of their door, some just put up black paper. Lang Arts seems to have universally chosen the exterior door poster that achieves the goal.
  I'm not heavily medicated or even in pain, I was just bored so I went in. I measured the poster to the laminator to confirm it would fit. I warmed up the laminator and waited for it to say "Ready". I began to slide the poster in, and looked up to talk to a colleague who came to hug me when I didn't say "hi". I didn't say "hi"because my gums are swollen, I have a mouth guard in and my face doesn't really work right now. I then slowly and sluuringly explained to her my surgery, and she asked a few questions and left. When I looked down, my poster was not emerging out of the back side of the laminator.
  That can't be right. Where is it going?
  I hit "Stop" and "Reverse" and the thing just starts to roll up, backwards.
  I accept immediately that I have screwed this up, and try to pull. The word REBEL tears off in my hands.
  I don't use the laminator much, so I procure the help of the temporary tech guy in the room. He is temporary because our tech guy quit. He has no idea, and asks me who is the one that runs the laminator usually? The librarian? I look at him squarely and say "You.  Sean, the guy you replaced is the boss of this area." He rudely mumbled "That's not happening, call the number on the side of the machine." I would rather find Mark, the beloved custodian, but I see freshmen doing registration which means he's tasked doing something, somewhere else today, probably with lockers. I know he could fix it if he was here, and he would laugh at me and love me anyway. I don't like the new guy, and he clearly does not like that he has to be here. Nor does he have any idea how to unravel a FUBAR laminator. He then points to a sign  on the backside of the laminator. A sign written in red sharpee on a piece of paper that has curled under the machine. It says "MAKE SURE THERE IS AT LEAST THREE INCHES OF PLASTIC SHOWING BEFORE YOU BEGIN".
  Huh.
  He read it out loud to me and said "That's probably why this is there." I like him even less, he is now a complete Ass Gnome as far as I'm concerned.
  So I call the number on the machine, and the contact name they have for service--after they find us, first reading the only address they have in our zip code as a church-- is someone who quit two years ago, and the model number they have on file is wrong. I ask the new guy if he can be the contact for the repairman, and he shrugs and says "OK", and I give the woman on the other end of the phone the main line number, as the temp guy doesn't have a direct line, or a number he knows of, or a last name. I look at the machine and realize that if this was the theatre three years ago, a student and I simply would have taken the thing apart, fixed it and put it back together again. But this is the copy room and I am a language arts teacher and I am not with a student, I am with a guy who works at the district and has been voluntold he is our temp tech support.
  I then hang up with the service department located somewhere in the south based on the woman's dialect and delightful manners, which are a stark opposition to those displayed by Temp Tech Guy, and go to send an email to the AP who can contact a custodian about this.  Because this whole time on the phone, I knew this was not going to work and that Mark could fix it if only I could find Mark, but Temp Tech Guy was all ramped up about calling the number on the machine I lost focus.  So I adjourn to 1743. My classroom computer is unplugged, unhooked and when replugged in does not access the internet. So I use my phone, get on the school email to send the following to the AP:
  "Welcome back, I jammed the laminator. I called the service department, here is the reference number. I'm leaving now, I've done all I can here."
  For the record I did not send what I wanted to send:
  "Hello. Where is Sean? This guy is useless. Against my will I called the service department. I killed the laminator. I left a note saying 'Welcome Back, kryssi jammed me.' Also nothing is hooked up to the internet in my room. The hell is Mark? Help. Welcome back."
    School hasn't even started yet.
    I need to go in and rearrange my room, they cleaned it this summer and faced all of my desks toward the front. A fun side note is that blinds have weirdly appeared on the inside of my door, covering the tiny window. I no longer need the blinds, I have...well, I had and will have again, Carrie. "These aren't the blinds you're looking for. Move along." I can drive. I could go in and rearrange my room, but then I'd just get mad that my computer is not working and the temp tech new guy and I don't have a great relationship. I have meetings all next week, I'm not sure when I will get time to do my room plus planning,  and Jim had to order me another poster. Also I can't eat anything except soup and yogurt and mashed potatoes yet I'm putting on weight because I'm Keto and there is nothing Keto on the post surgery menu.I'm not going back today.
  I found a video of a dog singing a duet with wind chimes. Then I took a nap. Then I wrote this.
  I feel another nap coming on.