New Office

On monday morning am shown into new office. Office has door and window but lacking most other charms---walls smudged, carpet shamefully stained, and window looks out onto shaftway--but, needless to say, an improvement over last arrangement (except for loss of the Contessa.) Keep thoughts to self because am being shown around by Libby and am afraid of what she will say in response. Had previously not let self think that Libby and I would now be working very closely together indeed--she is the secretary for the department. I am to fill the role of setting the curriculum for the year. This job usually falls to the Chair, but as Svetlana not so kindly said last week, The Chair, He is is getting the Alzheimer's. The Dean used more subtle language, repeating the word Glue several times--think--though not entirely sure, that I am meant to be the Glue. Libby much less vauge than the Dean--she tells me as she takes me to see the department copy machine that the Chair sometimes falls asleep while You (though not me, not yet anyway) are talking to him and that he forgets what century he is in. They should fire him. Libby says. They should fire him and get somebody new in, then they wouldn't need you to Pinch Hit. Do not care for baseball metaphors as am usually unsure what exactly is being refered to, but catch Libby's drift exactly. See that own tenure in the humanities department is going to be trying. Make weak joke about copy machines never working properly. Libby says that This Machine doesn't have the same problems as Your Old One. Declaim ownership or association with old machine but can tell that Liibby thinks that any mechanical problems it might have had were entirely my fault. Privately think that have never seen any copy machines that worked for any amount of time and--in fact--this machine is making a noise exactly like an Airplane getting ready to take off. Libby says that she Has Never Heard that Noise before and looks at me with narrowed eyes. She deposits me in my office and says to buzz her if I need anything. She sits directly outside my door, close enough for us to talk to each other in normal speaking voices but know that Libby prefers technology to people. (Note: Get tutorial on this new phone system from somebody other than Libby.) The Contessa enters with flowers after breezing past Libby's desk. Libby appears at door, says, Do you have an appointment? The Contessa laughs heartily, says, Libby you are So Funny, perhaps putting her trust in the power of suggestion. Libby frowns and crosses her arms. We try to Keep things Professional Here, Libby says. The Contessa places the vase of flowers on my desk and sits down in one of the chairs. With a gleam in her eye, she puts her feet up on the desk. Am in awe of her boldness, but unfortunately the vase of flowers gets tipped onto the floor. Vase evidentely a trick vase as office is flooded by thousands of gallons of water. Libby says, I will call maintenence, in chilly tone.