livlife
Welcome to Livlife. Where I am living my life out loud, for all to read.
Library School My A**
educationWhen I think of the time and money I spent on my education, I sometimes wonder why I bothered. More often than not, the things that I get the most accolades for are simple things that need no formal education or specialized experience. Usually, all I really need is common sense and the unwillingness to accept defeat.
At Hamline, we have a massive stapler. Massive. It can go through up to 25 pages at a time, which can come in handy when writing a long paper. This stapler is used all. the. time. It is likely the most used item in the library.
Well, evidently, it stopped working today. The breakdown occurred long before I arrived, the staff just kept telling people that it wasn't working. Somehow, that memo didn't get passed to the night staff. As a result, a few students came to use it and it wouldn't work. The girl staffing the circ desk didn't know it was broken so she got new staples out for it, but she didn't know how to load them. She brought it to me. I have never loaded it, but I figured "how hard can it be"? Turns out, fairly hard. Getting it open seemed to require an engineering degree or else a great deal of stubbornness, which I have. (The latter that is, not the former). After I struggled to get it open (with an audience of students and staff at this point) and reloaded it and put it back together, the first student stepped up with his packet and--nothing. It still didn't work.
I flipped it over to look at the opening and saw what appeared to be a staple jam. Unlike a standard stapler that opens several ways to provide total access to the mechanism, this one is back-loading and didn't open flat, that I could see. This meant a small space within which I had to work to remove the staples that were jammed. Of course, this seemed largely impossible. After fussing for 5 or so minutes, another staff member came back from her break and said, "oh, I forgot to tell you, the stapler is broken. No one knows how to fix it so we put in a work order and someone is coming out tomorrow to either fix or replace it."
Seriously?
I mean, come on. It is a stapler. A stapler. Not a copier or some high-tech gizmo that needs a serviceman to come out and repair it. It's a friggin' stapler. At this news, a couple of the waiting students packed it in and headed off to resume their lives. But the one who tried it first, he wouldn't give up. He looked at me (I guess because I am in charge) and I said, "give me a couple minutes, I'll get it fixed." I don't know where this confidence comes from. I had already done what I knew how to do and the thing was still broken, but I guess I just thought that I simply must be smarter than a stapler.
So, I dug out the tools I needed (which, because I work at a library, consisted of a ball point pen, staple remover, and a scissors) and got to work. I figured like any other stapler, I just needed to pry the jammed staple out of the hole and it would work again. I completely ignored the fact that I didn't actually have the room I needed to maneuver and I set to work. 5 or so minutes later, I finally got that damn staple out.
But, peering inside, I could see another one. So I dug that one out. And another. And another. And another. And another. FOURTEEN jammed staples later--the mechanism was free from jams and when the patient student stepped up, it worked perfectly. He looked at me and said, "that was awesome, nice work" and I felt better than I do after helping someone find information. Probably because it was nice work and, frankly, I am awesome. See, I never really needed that fancy education.
I just sent in an email to cancel the work order--and now I am the girl that knows how to fix the giant stapler. Guess I better go update my resume.
At Hamline, we have a massive stapler. Massive. It can go through up to 25 pages at a time, which can come in handy when writing a long paper. This stapler is used all. the. time. It is likely the most used item in the library.
Well, evidently, it stopped working today. The breakdown occurred long before I arrived, the staff just kept telling people that it wasn't working. Somehow, that memo didn't get passed to the night staff. As a result, a few students came to use it and it wouldn't work. The girl staffing the circ desk didn't know it was broken so she got new staples out for it, but she didn't know how to load them. She brought it to me. I have never loaded it, but I figured "how hard can it be"? Turns out, fairly hard. Getting it open seemed to require an engineering degree or else a great deal of stubbornness, which I have. (The latter that is, not the former). After I struggled to get it open (with an audience of students and staff at this point) and reloaded it and put it back together, the first student stepped up with his packet and--nothing. It still didn't work.
I flipped it over to look at the opening and saw what appeared to be a staple jam. Unlike a standard stapler that opens several ways to provide total access to the mechanism, this one is back-loading and didn't open flat, that I could see. This meant a small space within which I had to work to remove the staples that were jammed. Of course, this seemed largely impossible. After fussing for 5 or so minutes, another staff member came back from her break and said, "oh, I forgot to tell you, the stapler is broken. No one knows how to fix it so we put in a work order and someone is coming out tomorrow to either fix or replace it."
Seriously?
I mean, come on. It is a stapler. A stapler. Not a copier or some high-tech gizmo that needs a serviceman to come out and repair it. It's a friggin' stapler. At this news, a couple of the waiting students packed it in and headed off to resume their lives. But the one who tried it first, he wouldn't give up. He looked at me (I guess because I am in charge) and I said, "give me a couple minutes, I'll get it fixed." I don't know where this confidence comes from. I had already done what I knew how to do and the thing was still broken, but I guess I just thought that I simply must be smarter than a stapler.
So, I dug out the tools I needed (which, because I work at a library, consisted of a ball point pen, staple remover, and a scissors) and got to work. I figured like any other stapler, I just needed to pry the jammed staple out of the hole and it would work again. I completely ignored the fact that I didn't actually have the room I needed to maneuver and I set to work. 5 or so minutes later, I finally got that damn staple out.
But, peering inside, I could see another one. So I dug that one out. And another. And another. And another. And another. FOURTEEN jammed staples later--the mechanism was free from jams and when the patient student stepped up, it worked perfectly. He looked at me and said, "that was awesome, nice work" and I felt better than I do after helping someone find information. Probably because it was nice work and, frankly, I am awesome. See, I never really needed that fancy education.
I just sent in an email to cancel the work order--and now I am the girl that knows how to fix the giant stapler. Guess I better go update my resume.
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