What is it with staplers - or is it just me?

I self-publish my poems, printing up books whenever I have a reading, in the hope that some might sell - so last night I was busy printing and folding, as I was talking to a group a few miles from here.  A little while after we moved here two years ago I decided to invest in a new long-arm stapler, as my old one - the latest in a small succession of such things - was just not behaving.  Anyway, for a while all was well.

But not now.  This is I suppose the fourth or fifth long-arm stapler I've owned, and I've never bought cheaply, figuring that it would make good sense to invest in quality.  Quality?  My trouble is, none of them have really lasted the course.  This one was fine for about a year, but by last night it was skittishly refusing to properly inject the staples.  About every other one was crumpled and distorted, and not holding in place.  I want my books to look neat and professional, and so I make sure they are well laid out and printed . . . so you can imagine my frustration when it all gets spoiled because of one stupid stapler.

Yes, I am one of those people who get cross with inanimate objects.  I know it's silly, and I know we all find it so terribly amusing when we see John Cleese bashing his recalcitrant car with a stick in 'Fawlty Towers' - but no, I have to admit it:  after just one more distorted and useless staple messed up my handiwork last night, I became Basil Fawlty.  'The whole world is against me, and it's being channelled through you, you stupid b****y stapler.  Take that!  And that!  And that!'  It didn't do any good.  My stapler now hates me, and won't ever work for me again.  I had to give up making up poetry books (fortunately, I had finished enough to take to my reading).  In fact nothing moved forward in any way;  And if I felt briefly better for having vented my wrath, not even that  lasted for long.

Anyway, in the sober light of the next day, my question is, I suppose, is it just me?  I mean, are long-arm staplers just inherently flimsy and untrustworthy bits of tat, so that they always go wrong for everyone - or is it actually somehow my own fault?  No need to answer.  I'll buy another stapler, and see what I can do to treat this one with love and care.  And maybe, just maybe, it'll see me out.  One can but hope.