When one has been more or less sitting on one’s tail for three weeks of vacation between semesters, one expects a certain amount of out-of-shapeness. That upon returning, all the stairs and all the walking will take a certain toll.

One does not expect to be distressed over losing one’s “hole-puncher muscles.”

May I introduce my sometime friend, the Stanley Bostitch Hole Puncher, a frequent cohort in my efforts to alphabetize and file the world around me (aka, the payroll department). This sucker can handle a mess of paper at a time — but it has to know you really mean it. No, ladies and gents, this is not a hole puncher for the weak of heart. Or weak of arm.

Here’s to you, Stanley. You bastage.

Categories: grad school
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