The Maze of Frustration

I'm fairly certain the University is conducting some sort of experiment to see how many frustrations us students can handle before someone snaps and sets the building on fire. I thought they had succeeded today when the fire alarm went off in the middle of my workout--not to mention about 50 students' exams--but after spending 20 minutes wandering the university in a sweat-soaked shirt, a headband clearly made out of scraps of an old t-shirt, and bleach-stained sweatpants (I like to exercise in style), I was allowed back into the building. Having a fire alarm go off in the middle of a kinesiology exam will probably make at least one person blow a fuze, so I expect to return to class in the new year to find the school has been taken over by students from the applied health program.

In the meantime, 'tis the season to air one's grievances, so let me take you on a tour of the Maze of Frustrations that is the university complex. 

It begins with the Library. I finished my last essay and skipped merrily down to the Library to print it out*. I arrived to find that all of the computers and printers had been cleared out of the place. I ran around in shock for a while, frantically trying to find a computer. I found one, squeezed in behind a pillar. I downloaded my essay to print, then found out this was a non-printing computer. I found another computer, sent my essay to the printer, with a vague understanding that the machine sitting next to the printing computer was in fact a printer. Turns out it was a coin-operated copier machine. I finally took my plight to the front desk, where they directed me to the 5th floor to fulfill all my printer needs.

I headed for the stairs, only to find they were blocked. A sign pointed me towards the Slowest Elevator in the Universe, which had a line-up of students waiting to access the fifth floor. I printed out my essay, and somehow ended up with 3 double-sided copies instead of the 1 single-sided copy I had wanted. I accepted this and moved on.

I hunted around for that convenient table of staplers and hole-punchers that I hoped had come to the 5th floor during the renovations. It hadn't. I finally found the saddest little stapler I had ever seen, tethered to a desk like a neglected puppy. And it was out of staples. At this point I attempted to throw the abused stapler at the wall in disgust, but, chained as it was, it only made it halfway to the wall and then bounced back. Small mercies. Trashing a school library probably wouldn't be a good career move for me at this point**. I went back to the 4th floor, by way of the Slowest Elevator in the Universe, and managed to beg a stapler from the front desk.

I handed in my essay and decided to go for a celebratory jog. I headed for the gym, where I found: 1 treadmill that would not turn on, one that was on but did not have use of half its control buttons and could only be programmed for speeds of 7.5 miles/hr or faster, and one where the heart-rate monitor would not engage. All the other treadmills were taken. While watching my heart-rate fluctuate is one of my favourite jogging pasttimes (what?), I settled for the 3rd treadmill and ran until the fire alarm went off.

Upon being let back into the building, I was suddenly accutely aware of the fact I had consumed at least a liter of water in the past hour and went on a search for a bathroom stall that had 1) toilet-paper, and 2) a locking mechanism. I tried 3 stalls before I found one that met requirements, and afterwards spent an unexpectedly large amount of time trying to make our state-of-the-art, hands-free sink actually work. Apparently only one of them does right now.

The only conclusion I can draw is that we are all part of some perverse social experiment. I'm a little sad that I have no reason to be at school for the next few weeks, and will probably miss the inevitable revolt.

*Don’t bother trying to tell me I could have just gone to the computer lab. My brain is too clouded with rage to pay attention to such insignificant details.

**I always thought the small, concealable office supplies were chained down to prevent theft, but after today it is more likely they’re just trying to prevent people from using them as weapons.

***Please note that when I tried to upload this blog entry via the school’s wireless network, Firefox crashed and could not be revived. I’m assuming I’ll find some alternative and upload it eventually, though.****

****Oh look! I just did!