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Chapter 15: Of Mice and Molemen

Dear Journal

I stood stunned partly from fear and also due to the faulty wiring in the cubicle. The Moleman could speak, and particularly well I might add. The fact that he had been expecting me unnerved me even further. I needed to know more.

“How do you know who I am?” I asked, trying to mask the slight trembling in my voice.

There was an awkward silence before he replied. “I’ve been reading your Journal, Chris. You really should use a more encrypted file format, otherwise just about anyone could read your work”

“Why on Earth would any sane creature want to read my weekly journal?”

“It’s actually pretty entertaining, but it was because of this journal that I needed your help. You see all is not what it should be down here in the IT department. A great evil has descended upon us and I fear that only someone with your skills can defeat it”

I wasn’t sure what skills he was referring to, I hoped that it was my adventuring and dragon slaying and not my ability to type out TPR reports and alphabetise customer complaints. Nevertheless, I was so excited to hear of this perilous evil that I giggled like a school girl, which I fear may have made him second guess his decision to request my help.

Trying to hide my excitement I asked what exactly was this “great evil”. His response seemed ludicrous at first, but the terror in his shiny little slit eyes spoke the truth, a truth that was further magnified by his two gigantic glass eyes that were slowly sliding down his nose. He responded with only two words “Jock Nerd”.

I knew vaguely what these terms meant in isolation, but had never heard of a “Jock Nerd”, in fact as far I was concerned Jocks and Nerds had always been mortal enemies and never been allowed to intermingle let alone interbreed.

“I can see you are struggling to believe me,” said the rodent-like IT guy”, but I will show you the foul beast if you would just walk this way”.

He then scurry around on the floor taking cover behind cubicle walls and old monitors, I wasn’t sure I could actually emulate such a feat, but I did as was instructed as difficult as it was.

As we scurried through the dimly lit passages I noticed the gleaming of several pairs of eyes reflecting their respective monitors. Hundreds and hundreds of cubicles each filled with molemen and women (not that I could actually tell the difference). There were hundreds of them and yet they were all in grave fear of this “Jock Nerd”.

And then suddenly our scurrying came to an abrupt halt as behind a pile of discarded ink cartridges. I took a moment to catch my breath before poking my head from my inky vantage point.

And there he stood… more Giant than Mole, a towering mass of brains and muscles… I could only manage but whisper his name… “Jock Nerd”

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Posted by on June 17, 2011 in journal

 

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Chapter 13: The IT Department

Dear Journal

I’m busy preparing for my trip to the Dungeon known as the IT department. I have never been nor do I know anyone else who has ever been and returned alive, let alone knows how to get there in the first place. Rumours have it that there is only one person who is allowed safe passage to IT and that is Rudy the Janitor. I must find this Man of the Mop and learn his secrets.

I approach the cleaning services office which incidentally was the dirtiest office in the building. It was filled with all sorts of unnamed bottles with various types of warnings and skulls on the labels. I walked as silently and as stealthily as I could past the graveyard of mops, buckets and chemicals. Surely some potent concoctions existed in these bottles, but my fear got the best of me and I decided to keep my hands to myself.

As silent as I thought I was, someone had heard me. An eerie call came from behind the service desk. “WHO’S THERE?” I SAID I’D CLEAN THAT TOILET AFTER LUNCH!” he shouted before poking his head over the service counter.

I told him that my name was Chris, but he interrupted me saying that he already knew who I was. That I was the one who was stealing all the office supplies to make traps and destroying printer supplies to make sure the printer goddess would return.

I thought he was going to report me or ask for some sort of bribe to maintain his silence, but instead he thanked me for trying to get printer girl to return sooner and admired my ingenuity.

He then stood up and made his way towards me. As he hobbled closer I was struck by the strangest mix of cleaning chemicals, none of which hid the smell of sweat that had soaked into his faded blue overalls. This brought back terrible memories of my performance review with Mr Berkley so to avoid a similar result I took a few steps back and held my breath.

He asked what I was doing in his office, to which I explained that I sought out the IT department. He laughed, a terrible, phlegm-filled laugh, which was only interrupted by the most soul-chilling “death rattle” of a cough that could only be caused by innumerable years of exposure to dangerous cleaning chemicals. He then hobbled towards a large cabinet and handed me a small bottle of clear liquid.

He explained to me that finding the IT department isn’t the problem the problem is getting out of there. He said that this elixir would allow me to escape unharmed from the dungeon of IT.

I didn’t know what it was or when to use it, he may have explained it to me but I was starting to hallucinate from all the chemicals and I can’t imagine holding my breath was helping matters. But at least I hadn’t thrown up yet.

And so I went about my journey into the bowels of the earth…into the IT department.

 
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Posted by on June 10, 2011 in journal

 

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Chapter 12: Server Down – The IT hits the fan

Dear Journal

Today appeared to start as any other day, as the drones at Centrifico Technologies passed through the turnstiles at work. They all paced lifelessly towards their respective cubicles and went about their routines.

At this stage my routine comprises typing out reports, drinking coffee, staring at the clock and filing things. Sometimes just to be rebellious I even do two things at once. Like stare at the clock while filing something or drinking coffee while typing reports. I think that is an example of the “potential” Mr Berkley said he saw in me.

I’m so well entrenched in this routine that I’m struggling to find time to maintain the booby traps in my cubicle which has caused me some painful self-injury as I often forget where they have been placed. I can’t even remember the last time I had a chance to plot against the evil wizard in the airduct and my List of office assassinations has seen very little activity. That is the thrill-a-minute world of a Customer Services Analyst.

It was just as I was clicking “save” on my 231st TPR form for the day that a strange little window appeared on my screen saying “Could not Write to Disk. Server Error”
Perhaps through ignorance, but most certainly through defiance I tried several more times only to be met with the same, increasingly annoying little window. Its triumphant little “beep” seemed to tease me each time. I would certainly put it on the list if it were capable of being assassinated… or if I could remember where I put my damn list. I think it’s in the third drawer.

It is NOT in the third drawer, but my spring-loaded staple trap is and is working fine. I am typing a lot slower with one hand bandaged.

I use my fully functioning hand to call IT help desk and am answered by a lovely young lady with a British accent who informs me that all the operators are busy at this time and that my call will be answered in approximately 3 hours and 12 minutes. Her accent became rather robotic when informing me of the waiting time, but I have been told that robotic tendencies are common amongst the British and I presume desirable in IT.

I am then played a medley of recent chart topping hits all played by soothing pan pipes although the songs are difficult to enjoy with that robotic British lady constantly interrupting me to remind me of how important my call is and that I should stay on the line. She probably has the worst job here at Centrifico Technologies… which is saying a lot I might add.

After about 45 minutes my ear is starting to ache and I’m starting to feel less important that the Robot Brit had originally led me to believe. So I decided to go to the IT department myself. I had no idea where exactly the IT department was but I had been informed it was in the basement, underground.

DEEP UNDERGROUND.

 
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Posted by on June 7, 2011 in journal

 

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