  It's fortunate that I don't own any firearms. No, no, I'm not some violence-loving, freaked out psychopath.
It's just that I work on a Helpdesk. Well, not ON a Helpdesk, I AM the Helpdesk. Apparently. Once, when I did an Auslan sign language course, we had to sign what we did for a job. Suffice to say that signing 'help' and 'desk' was somehow interpreted as 'furniture maker' by the instructor.
I should have known then that working on a Helpdesk is not actually a real job. A real job involves doing something useful, creating good in the world, making something constructive, seeing some sort of result at the end of the day. Isn't it? Are there any jobs like that left? I'm thinking only if you work at Arnotts making the biscuits. On the other hand, my job involves gauging the temperament of every single person I speak to. It's never just a question of 'having an IT problem'.
It's more a question of 'which personality am I today'? Take one of the more popular requests I receive regularly in the course of my work day, for example 'My account is locked'. This could mean any number of things; 'If you don't unlock my account NOW! I'm going to reach over and poke you in the eyes because if I don't get into my computer the email my boss is expecting me to write to our customer about how bad our programming is I will blow a blood vessel'. 'My account is locked because I'm a dumb-arse who can't remember the password I set for it five minutes ago.
Also, can you please tell me where I sit again? ' 'My account is locked, Minion Woman. Fix it now, or I will report immediately to your superior the glaring lack of IT skills you demonstrate on a daily basis' 'My account is locked, but I don't really care. I'm so not into being a software engineer right now, I'm making indie films with my brand new Sony Digicam with built-in MP3 player.
That's why I've come to see you from the complete opposite side of the building when I could have phoned you. On my way back I'll stop and chat with seven other people, stop at the vending machine and then maybe come back because by then I would have forgotten what I came down to see you for.
Do you like my hair?'. But it's not all bad, sometimes, just sometimes, in those few and far-between, glorious moments in a workday when you actually perform the task you are employed to do, when someone says 'My account is locked' and means 'My account is locked' and when you unlock it, and when they say 'Thankyou'. Well, it makes it all worthwhile, doesn't it? On those days, I really need to resist leaning over the Helpdesk, untangling my headset so that I don't garrotte myself, and give the account-locked person a big hug.
I wonder if Arnott's has any vacancies in it's Tiny Teddies divison? 
