'Twas the day before Christmas

Twas the day before Christmas, And all around the cubes
Not a creature was stirring, But PTO-less rubes.
The lights had been turned off by workers who were green
‘Causing the cubes to be bathed in the light blue of monitor sheen

The managers were celebrating with rummed egg nogs,
While dozens of workers realized they were no more than cogs.
And associates in their suits, and I in my business cas’
Had just settled into our bored routines at long last.

When out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my Aeron Desk Chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I ambled without much haste,
And slowly I looked for more time to waste.

The lot was dreary, devoid of Christmas Cheer
Reminding me that I was stuck working here.
When, what to my wondering eyes should show near,
But the IT staff with crates and boxes of gear.

With a network admin atwitter and twitch,
I knew in a moment it was a server switch.
More boxes and cables off the truck came
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name!

“Now, 80211G! now, Servers! now, RAID and WAN!
On, Bluetooth! on, Cat 5! on, Switches and LAN!
To the network room! to the conduit in wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As individual pages of multiple copies do fly,
When admin assistants trip as they go by ,
So fly IT Techs with work to do,
Laden arms of cable and other gear too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in MY space,
The scraping and clicking of cables out of place
As I moseyed back to the place of my work
I saw the IT Tech unplugging my PC with a smirk.

He was dressed in a network humor shirt un-funny.
His hand was inside my desktop un-running.
A miasma of cables atop of my desk
And a gutted PC chassis laid out in a mess.

His eyes-how dead to the world I could not see
His complexion was wan as moon reflected on sea.
Stringy long hair and glasses to boot,
Un-dated? Un-washed? Those questions were moot.

The can of Red Bull held tight in his fist
And crumbs of past Fritos alit on his chest.
He had a broad girth and ill-fitting clothes
The rode up in places that should not be exposed

He was stuffy and standoffish, offensive and dreary
Talking to him while he worked made me feel weary
A dull unhappy look and curse of BSG “Frak!”
I was sure that my net access was not coming back.

He quizzed me on Stargate, while bent at his work,
And derided my sci-fi knowledge, the odious jerk!
And laying his finger inside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the nasal chimney it rose!

He wiped his finger on pants quite abhorrent,
And away he filed past me in a nerd huffy torrent.
I heard him exclaim under his breath as he passed,
“You should have saved early and often you pompous dumbass”

To recap:
No IT professionals were harmed in the bastardization of this poem
It is clearly forced in some areas, but what can you do?
Happy Holidays everyone
Especially the IT pros out there
Listening to the last dregs of the worker cogs get ready to go home for the holiday
This post is posthumously dedicated to Lord Pithy
Yes, posthumously... come up with a less grandiose name, Lord Pithy takes too long to type
Since I am not posting on Christmas
Have a great weekend as well