I’m freaking out, man

The power went out a couple of hours ago. We were all droning away at our computers, click/click/click, when everything went dark. Everything, including the final report I was knee-deep in but hadn’t bothered to save. Damn, damn, damn! This outage lasted for a good 30 minutes. I spent the latter half of that time in my friend Abby’s office. She’s the other playwright at work.

(side note: every office should have at least one playwright so, in times of ridiculousness and/or crisis, a coworker can lean over and whisper, “You should write a play about this,” not realizing that every office has its drama, drama that is not very interesting to people outside of the office including spouses, parents and best friends) (what I’m saying is, no one would come see that play and rightfully so) (what I’m also saying is that it seems to bring the afflicted slight comfort to think that their tale of workplace woe might some day be shared in an effort to not repeat the mistakes of the past) (even though those mistakes will most certainly be repeated, over and over again, with increasing crapitude)

There was a total lack of communication about what was causing the power to stay off, so we were left to try to figure it out on our own as the air grew thin. Abby and I, like any writers worth their damaged livers, starting discussing various disaster scenarios that might have led to the outage. We tried to check our email accounts on our cellphones but couldn’t get connected to our phones’ networks. Odd. I called her cellphone to make sure that at least that mode of communication was still open. The call went through, but we were left wondering if that was what the aliens (or the Chinese or the Tea Baggers or the fill-in-the-blank) intended to happen, to lull us into a false sense of security because we were able to call other people within the building. What if we couldn’t reach anyone on the outside? What if everything was going bat shit crazy all around us, only we didn’t know it because we couldn’t check our email or get online or turn on the television? What if the electronic locks on the doors wouldn’t let us exit and we were trapped here for days? Who would we eat first?

This conversation naturally segued into our shared appreciation for a good Armageddon story. We discussed various ways we think it all might come to an end – computers/robots, the environment, people eating themselves first into irrelevance and then extinction. So many possibilities…and then the power was restored. Sigh. Back to the click/click/click. We had just enough time to recover what documents we could when BLAMMO, off again. Now that we’re so tied to computers, at least at my place of employment, there was literally no work that could be accomplished with no power and no network connection.

Obviously the power is back again. I was able to heat up my leftovers for lunch and write this post. Maybe it was just a test run to see how long it would take an office full of people with no power, no internet distractions and – worst yet – no air conditioning to freak the fuck out. They totally didn’t make us suffer long enough. I didn’t even break out in a sweat and was actually enjoying spending time talking to my coworkers. So there, potential overlords. Nice try.

7 Replies to “I’m freaking out, man”

  1. (side note: every office should have at least one playwright so, in times of ridiculousness and/or crisis, a coworker can lean over and whisper, “You should write a play about this,” not realizing that every office has its drama, drama that is not very interesting to people outside of the office including spouses, parents and best friends) (what I’m saying is, no one would come see that play and rightfully so)

    Wow, you must find the popularity and commercial success of Dilbert to be completely inexplicable! Not to mention Office Space or The Office.

    I still “As Taub Turns” has the potential to be a smash hit, if one of us ever sits down to finally write the script(s) for the series.

    1. None of the things you mentioned are plays, Al, which is an important point. Besides, what I’m talking about is when someone (and this has obviously happened to me a lot over the years) is in the midst of some typical office bullshit but thinks it would be *great* as a stage play. That a literal recreation of some stupid meeting would just be riveting work for the theatre. Nope.

      That being said, I did just write a play that was set in an office. But in my play, the boss has been beaten unconscious and spends the majority of the play passed out and tied to a chair. I WISH that were a literal recreation from one of my jobs, but alas it is not.

      Ahh, Taub. My memories are so hazy…Spent too much time hanging out with Dilworth…

  2. I know what you mean. Any time ANYTHING happens in my life, my Mom is like “you should write a book about this.” And I respond, “no one would read that book.” Then it just becomes an argument that ends with me telling her to write her own damn book. I try not to let people know I’m a writer for that reason. I really don’t like for people to know I’m an artist, period; it leads to too many patronizing, irritating, unwelcome questions.

  3. I would rather watch a play about picking lint out of your bellybutton and scratching your nuts than one about “office drama”. I’m already trying very hard everyday to ignore and avoid getting involved with the mind-numbingly inane bullshit that goes on at my office, why would I want to watch it re-enacted on a stage? Couldn’t agree with you more, sister.

  4. I know I have been telling you all the other weird things that I have encountered over the past few days, but did I tell you that I got into my car on Saturday and all of my pre-set radio stations had changed! How brilliant of the robot-aliens to slowly kill me with bad country music!

    1. Interesting. A friend of mine posted on facebook or twitter this morning that the power in his office was out. Perhaps we should start keeping a spreadsheet of activities…

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