Who knew my computer, telephone and even Associated Press Stylebook were entitled to more time off than I was?


Oh sure, my e-mail was pretending to work while I was away. It insisted it had replied faithfully to all correspondents with an “out-of-office” message advising them I was absent for the week.


Some correspondents said they got the reply. But at least two reported they had received no such warnings about redirecting timely material while I was gone.


Without me to prod it a dozen times daily, my e-mail must have nodded off — after lunch, maybe, when it had a full inbox. Or maybe it decided to snub the people whose attached documents never open on the first click, prompting the pesky “save to disk” instructions.


Our word-processing and paginating programs seemed to think I deserved a longer break. They demurred when I offered them my password. Maybe they couldn’t stand to witness my scramble to catch up on writing, copyediting and putting the next week’s pages together until they deemed me fully decompressed from my travels.


“What’s your rush?” their refusal to respond seemed to ask. “Get reacquainted with those nice guys in the IT department. Go ahead, give them a call, or at least send them a pleading HELP message. They’re wondering why they haven’t heard from you in a week.”


I admit that when I am on the job I experience enough computer glitches to keep a couple of techies busy full time. Maybe we should synchronize our vacations so they’re not faced with so much down time while I’m away.


Eventually, I needed a new password to get back into the computer system. I prefer not to regard this as comparable to a spouse changing the locks on the doors when you go to visit mother for the weekend. I guess I should be thankful the contents of my desk were not left in a plastic garbage bag on the curb in front of the newspaper office.


My phones were really slacking off while I was gone. I had pressed a dozen buttons to record temporary “I’m-away” messages on their answering machines. Little did I know that my main voice-mail number had been “away” for some time itself.


I discovered the truth on my return: The number had been “retired” months ago, when the building phone system was updated.


All along, old 2300 had been telling me, “You have no new messages.” It neglected to say it had done the equivalent of heading for Sun City, Ariz., leaving the receiver off the hook.


I might have expected betrayal by temperamental electronic devices, but the disappearance of the AP Stylebook from my desk really hurt. Et tu, AP?


Finally, Friday afternoon, a co-worker informed me the style guide had spent nearly two weeks moonlighting on his desk. I took it back; all was forgiven.


The coup de grâce came on my way out of the company parking garage. I had forgotten my security card and so had to summon help to exit.


“Do you still work here?” the attendant asked.


I do — when they let me.




Today’s “Among the Living” guest columnist Jo-Ann Greene is editor of the Books page of the Sunday News. Write to her at jgreene@lnpnews.com. blog comments powered by Disqus