Copy Guy

Transmitter wrote this mid-afternoon:

This morning at the office I walked by one of my coworkers struggling with the copier. I watched her frustration increase from a distance while I filled my coffee cup. Now armed with coffee, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and offered my assistance. She explained to me that it kept telling her that it was jammed, but that she had already cleared everything. She tried turning it off and back on, but that didn’t help either. I read the error message and opened the document feeder where the copier was telling me it was jammed. Sure enough there was a piece of paper. She immediately felt embarassed by her frustrated confidence that the copier was wrong. I assured her that it was not a big deal because I’d worked at a copy shop for 7 years. She thanked me repeatedly and appointed me as the new in-house copier technician. Awesome. At least my experience is respected in some area of the office.

Spinning Time

Transmitter wrote this in the early evening:

Every morning at work I go outside with my second cup of coffee to smoke. While I’m smoking, I skim the front page of the paper in the newstand that I use to rest my hot coffee on. Several weeks ago when I picked up my coffee there was a tiny spider dangling from it. I carefully transferred his web from my cup back to the newstand.

Since then, I’ve taken to watching the tiny spider. Today he attached himself to my coffee again and I had a chance to see how much he’s grown. In just a couple week’s time he’s more than tripled in size. I watched him swing from my cup and then put him back on the newstand.

Creation Myth

Transmitter wrote this in the wee hours:

I’m from California, New Jersey, Ohio, Missouri, Florida. I lack a creation myth. I write here to document, recreate, and ellaborate myself. I know as little as you do.

Looking back, I can see patterns, pieces being added on, but where did this start? Should I work backwards or forwards or randomly? How can anyone know me when I don’t know me?

Someday I’ll get the story.

If You’re Happy…

Transmitter wrote this just before lunchtime:

If you’re happy and you know it… there’s a whole list of things to do. Unfortunately, you can’t rework these happy proofs backwards. I’ve tried clapping, but it does no good.

What do you do if you’re sad? Where are the childhood songs and anecdotes about sadness? My upbringing was clearly inadequate in this area. Maybe things would be different if I had grown up in the delta. Mr. Shines, can I call you daddy?

Ghost in a Toe

Transmitter wrote this terribly early in the morning:

Several years ago I read about twin sisters who used to hold seances that would summon poltergeists. The room would echo with pops and cracks. Not long into their career their poltergeists were outed as nothing more than the amplified sounds of their toes popping and cracking.

I summon poltergeists everytime I crack my toes.

All Dressed Up and Lonely

Transmitter wrote this in the wee hours:

Penguin Shunned

I want my own friends. The friends that I’ve made over the past few years have all been through relationships, which means they come and go.

I crave the excitement of meeting new people, the opportunity to be anyone.

I’m all dressed up and ready to go.

For This Part

Transmitter wrote this mid-afternoon:

I’ve taken to modifying my appearance in as many fast and inexpensive ways possible. When asked about my new look, I simply respond, “It’s for this part I’m auditioning for.”


Transmitter wrote this mid-afternoon:

I’m here even when you can’t see me.