While prepping for a class at the venue where I would be teaching a continuing education course, I located a three-hole punch and punched a stack of printed pages so I could insert them in three-ring binders. As a socially responsible type, I picked up the hole punch once I finished using it, and started walking toward the nearest trash bin so I could empty out the chads I had punched from the paper. After taking a half-dozen paces, something at my feet caught my eye.
Yep, you guessed it, the chads had been pouring out
from the base of the punch (like fairy dust on steroids) from the moment I
grabbed it from the table. I had left a wide swath of chads on the carpet
behind me.
Adulting can be difficult, this being a perfect
case in point. So, off I went to locate
a vacuum cleaner.
—Mitchell
Hegman
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