Whether or not it’s because I’ve been spending time reading Kafka (see, for instance, The Poseidon Predicament), yesterday I entered the strange world of non-existent paper jams. True, there had been a paper jam, and a pretty nasty one at that. But I sorted it out.

“Hang on a minute”, said the printer. “There’s a paper jam.”

Of course, it didn’t say it in that human-friendly way. I simply folded its arms, and gave me the sort of blank stare my cats do when they wonder why I’m trying to feed them on some premium food I’ve just spent a fortune on because they told me they liked it.

In the end, I took to the internet (where else?), and immediately found the answer. You might want to bookmark this in case you ever experience the same problem.

Now, where did I put my copy of The Trial…?