Thank You George McGill and Henry R. Heyl

I have a new man in my life. Well…he’s not so much “new” as he has taken on a new importance in my life. We’ve been spending pretty much the whole day together all week. And we just can’t seem to get enough of each other. Who is he you ask? Well, he is Ivan. My stapler. He’s a swingline. Very cool. A rich blue. And sure he is a terrible stapler because every fourth staple requires the use of both hands and arms and sometimes standing up and a full body force to complete the staple…but nobody (and no office supply for that matter) is perfect.

A photo of Ivan on his trip to Zions National Park

Now this relationship...this bond is especially remarkable when you consider that staplers and I have not always been on the best of terms. Those of you who know me are familiar with the story of the young man with whom I was infatuated, who found out that I had formed a tendre for him and mockingly stapled himself in the head because it was such a horrifying concept. Since that time, staplers became a symbol of me just being repulsive. Then I got over it and moved on and staplers were a mildly amusing reminder of how dramatic I had been in my childhood.  So now spending all day with a stapler started out being a little awkward. But we're cool now. And Ivan and I just like spending hours together. Hours and hours.

All week I have been scanning and stapling. Scanning and stapling. Scanning and stapling. Scanning and stapling. And stapling. And stapling. And stapling. My arms are sore. FROM STAPLING. The top portion of my abs is sore. FROM STAPLING. How exactly ineffective is my stapler if it is requiring enough effort that my abs are being not only used but worked out? So yeah. Ivan is my new personal trainer and hopefully by the time I’ve scanned and stapled and stapled and stapled all the documents that I’m supposed to I will wind up having Sarah Connor from Terminator 2 arms.