Different Desks

The boiler that heats our building at work broke and pumped tons of water onto the floor. It seeped under the wall and pooled beneath my desk. I'm not sure if our boiler is fueled by dog urine or if the carpet under my desk is so nasty that it takes on that particular odor when it gets wet, but in either case it was bad. By a stroke of luck one of my colleagues was on vacation so I moved to her desk, and I have to pass my desk every time that I go to it. About half the times that I walked past my desk on my way to her desk this week, I thought, "Oh my god! I've been fired! What happened to all my stuff?" Then I see the fan and the wet patch and remember. I don't have this thought process every time I walk past, but I've learned to rely on it to gauge how weary I am.

No comments:

Post a Comment