Sunday night I told the Mister, “I just want to warn you now, there is a pretty good chance I’m going to embarrass myself at work this week.”
He, understandably, gave me an odd look and said, “Umm… why?”
It’s the week after commencement. The photos from the award ceremonies and pinnings and pre-commencement meetings are pouring in and I’m trying to get everything sorted out to be written and sent to the proper places. But am I worried about that? Nope. It’s what I do and I’m rolling with it.
So what has me sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting at every moment for a bomb to go off?
It’s the week after commencement. Which also means it’s “let’s test all the fire alarm equipment” week.
So sometime this week…. at any moment… the fire alarms in this building are going to go off. Where is the fire alarm, you ask? Directly over my desk.
I’m staring at it right now. On the wall, less than six feet to my left. Just above my head. If I’m turned toward the main part of my desk, it’s directly in my line of sight.
And at any second… it’s going to go off.
I told the Mister, “When it does go off, I’m probably going to scream, drop whatever I am holding and fall out of my chair. And possibly wet myself.”
I just hope I’m not in mid-sip of my drink. Or stapling something. Because that could end badly.
So here I sit… working on commencement photos… glancing at the innocent little box in front of my desk… waiting. And every minute that passes without an eardrum-splitting scream is another minute closer to that fateful moment.
I’m pretty sure there will be another blog post after the fact, because I doubt my coworkers will let me live my reaction down anytime soon. I might need to bring a change of clothes to work tomorrow and stash them in a filing cabinet… just in case.
It wouldn’t be the worst idea ever.
I’m just really hoping it happens on Friday, because I won’t be here on Friday and my coworkers can enjoy the ordeal by themselves.
I also feel like there is an end-of-time, judgement-day religious analogy in here somewhere…