What winds me up...

A tinge of absurdity makes our lives more interesting, a dose of absurdity lets us mock at the imperfect reality, but when they make up an ample chunk of our daily routine they paralyse our lives. From time to time I do have such bouts of being overwhelmed by absurdity. That happens usually when I tackle a series of events which go according to the same simple scenario: an activity which should run smoothly causes extortionate problems. To illustrate it with an example: I want to buy a loaf of bread. I go to the first shop – it is closed, in the second they ran out of bread, in the third they didn’t get it from the bakery, in the fourth one the till has broken down and the shop assistant can sell it to me, in the fifth one they have only stale loaves, in the seventh… I could make up such problems endlessly…

I have to order a transfers to my school’s accounts and bring them the proof of payment. How will I know if such hidebound institution like my school accepts printouts from online-banking system. I don’t feel like going to the bank’s outlet and paying ten zlotys for ordering transfers, the proofs will look almost the same, there won’t be those red slips with funny blanks, they’re no longer in use. Hopefully they won’t pick on what I’m going to deliver. You may argue that I think up problems which do not exist. Mates, I know my school, I’ve been studying there for three years and saw much more ridiculous situations… BTW: enrolment fee – 85 zlotys, diploma fee – 100 zlotys, student card fee – 17 zlotys, credit book fee – 4 zlotys. Altogether over 200 zlotys, times over 1000 students and Warsaw School of Economics made over two hundred zlotys on dividing course of studies into first and second degree.

On Friday evening there was an attempt of break-in to my house. Probably the thieves have been observing the empty house for a while and planned the action for the day before owners should have come. The neighbours dog was vigilant started to bark as it saw the strangers in our garden. Neighbours alarmed by barking of usually quiet dog popped out to check what was going on, stared at the burglars and scared them away. They didn’t get in what if they did? I’ve been asking myself if I had a right to overpower them, hit them without warning, break a limb? Should they attack me earlier? Is encroaching upon someone else’s property already an attack? I’m not keen to praise US system where the owner can kill any intruder, I wouldn’t kill anybody. But a burglar is a scoundrel, a dreg of a society, for trespassing my property he deserves punishment, but am I the right person to mete it out? Should I be afraid of defending myself at home because of the possibility of being sentenced for beating up a thief?

Yesterday I wanted to print the photos from holiday trip. Together with my parents we chose 64 pictures to be printed, I decided they would be done on 4x6 inch format and put onto the new album. I have the ink, have my photo paper, I turn on the printer. It hasn’t been used for two weeks so I do a nozzle check (in plain English I check if the device prints in all four colours), the result is not satisfying to I load up head cleaning program, as it ends the gauges on the printer flash interchangeably. “An unknown error has occurred” is the first window which pops up, the next one communicates planned obsolescence of some parts of the printer has just expired… The device has jammed, I copy the content of pop-up window and paste it into Google. To my surprise I don’t need to contact the service facility. I download a service application and unlock the printer. What was the cause? Malicious or rather greedy designer. It turned out that Epson Stylus C62 after printing 14.370 pages – fourteen thousand three hundred seventy pages – if you think it is a round number just let me know – is set to display such hilarious piece of information and block itself.

Dear user, come to us and pay us for unlocking it, if you’re sharp witted do it on your own (like I did), there’s another alternative – don’t bother to wrangle with it – just buy a new printer and let us earn. Who the hell came up with such ridiculous idea that this specific model can print such number of pages and not even one more? Because of tussling with the infuriating device I missed out on a final volleyball game and haven’t seen Polish team winning a gold medal. You’d ask why wouldn’t I just replace it with a new one. I’ve cared for this printer for six and a half years and I’m somehow attached to it. Until now it served me well, but it couldn’t repay me with a good performance cause an accursed engineer set the limit of its capacity…

Unfortunately I wasn’t too proficient with operating service application so I used too much ink for intensive head cleaning (they had jammed themselves, according to the designer’s lousy but carefully contrived plan) and had to go to town to buy new cartridges. I drop in the first one where I stock up regularly (Papiernik, ul. Nugat 7, Ursynów). I buy two black ones, but they don’t have a colour one. Alright, I’ll go to the other shop I patronised earlier – Belgradzka 22, they also don’t have the colour one but the shop assistant tries to foist on me the black one and doesn’t seem to understand that I’ve just bought two and don’t need any more. I head for another shop, I don’t remember the exact address, somewhere on north Ursynów. For no apparent reason they also have only the black cartridges but this time the saleswoman suggests I should buy another colour cartridge which they have on the stock, it takes a minute to drum it down to her head that a different one doesn’t fit my printer… I got back home by newly opened 739 bus line. I got out on the new bus stop, next to Auchan so I decided to pop in there and check if they have the cartridge I’m yearning for. I already hold a foil bag with cartridges I bought so I ask if there’s a storage box to leave for the duration of my shopping. There isn’t any, but three security guards together seal my bag and with such closed bag I can enter the shop. I find only the black ones so I get out of the supermarket. Security guards control my sealed bag and reluctantly let me go…

I’d better have these photos developed before I blow a fuse…