Green Light Blues

Thursday. The Poor Man's Friday.

That damned green light is still staring at me...

We've got an ancient phone system here at the office. Anyone who's gotten used to a Lucent, Nortel or Aspect switch will shudder at the sight of these steam-powered desk sets.

We don't have any replacement sets, so you're kind of limited to percussive maintenance. Mine fritzes out every so often, and if unplugging it and letting it reset won't do the trick, you slap it a few times.

The voicemail mostly works. Mine was out for several weeks earlier this year. After my trip to Austin, though, I'm staring at the green LED telling me there's messages in the system. Could be two messages, could be twenty-two. There's no way to tell until you dial in.

A few will be the usual broadcast messages advertising blood drives, bake sales, and whatever else passes for community news around here.

The rest? Probably angry villagers sharpening pitchforks and wrapping torches.

*Sigh*. Nothing for it. Gotta push the button and see.

Cover me! I'm going in!