Stationery Blues

The Stapler Of Doom
I would at this point like to complain about my new stapler. I think I mentioned that I bought a new stapler recently. There is something very satisfying about browsing a stationery department, it really is one of my favourite past times. I compare the merits of the 8×13 index cards to the 10×15 coloured ones, test the pens to see which one writes most smoothly, slobber over filing systems.

Last week my son broke our stapler, by way of rather over enthusiastic stapling, so I set off to buy a new one. I had not had time to unpack and glory in my new stapler until today when I realised to my horror that the new staples do not fit. The staples were right next to the stapler so am I being unreasonable to think that they should fit?

I am cross.

I have thrown the stapler down on the desk, breaking of a piece of metal that is surely an important part of the stapler. I think it is beyond repair.

You can see that I have nothing in my life at present over which I can get annoyed, if this is the worst thing that has happened this week.

My father is here, so I will go and throw myself on his mercy. He is, as my son said yesterday, A Good Fixer.