And I am calm.
Regardless of the strange stresses produced by working on the hyper-tesseract we laughingly call our timetable, I am at one with the Universe and exhibit a bland shell of calm indifference to all of the "slings and arrows of Outrageous fortune" that constantly descend on me in a continual stream.
Some of my colleagues do not seem to be able to read English.
A large sign with the clearly written words:
While I was trying to explain that we had fixed it the previous night, I noticed that my mate was beginning to exhibit the first signs of a murderous rage. Gritting teeth, twitching muscles across his face, protruding eyeballs, the whole works. While Ringo was wittering on, my fellow timetabler had lost his place in his mental gymnastics, and would have to start again.