I went to lunch and watered the grass seed and stole butter chicken and lamb korma from the parents' fridge. And when I came back, there was a new painting on the wall that has been screaming for adornment since I started here, and there was a printer on the cabinet next to my desk!
I have a printer!
I can finally update the office phone list for my directory! I can print out the letters I write for the CEO without having to send them to my supervisor! I can have hard copies of important information without having to copy e-mails out by hand or open the internet every time a topic comes up! I can . . . do other things that aren't immediately coming to mind!
In short, this is an improvement. Honestly, I'm ridiculously pleased. I printed out a test document just to make sure that it would work (for some reason, this document consisted solely of the number 13), and when it appeared in the printer tray, I clapped my hands. I'm actually stopping people as they walk through the lobby and saying "Look! A painting! A printer!"
When I get to the point that I put the "13" paper in a frame and hang it on the wall for all to admire, that is when I should be forcibly detained. Until that time, allow me my foolish pleasure.