Today was my first day back at work since December 14, which is a whopping 18 days off. I am not exaggerating in the least when I say that I have not thought of work a single time since December 14 (except for being glad that I wasn’t there).
So, when I hopped in the car this morning and started driving, it is a miracle that I headed off in the correct direction. I could just as easily struck out in the wrong direction and ended up at a Starbucks or a Barnes & Noble or in Fort Worth while staring out the windshield in bewilderment while saying, “Hmmm … this doesn’t seem right. This is an open field.”
I won’t take any credit for having the mental faculties to get to work this morning. It was purely muscle memory. That happens when you drive to the same place every work day for 8 years. Therefore, my brain had nothing to do with it. My brain was, in fact, trying to thwart the enterprise by telling me stridently that this endeavor was hopeless and that we should just go back home and go to bed. But I reminded my brain that this was the price for spending too much on Christmas. I then set about to ignore my brain.
I managed to make it through the revolving door in only one revolution and without losing my briefcase or a glove or my sanity. I wandered through the hallways in a daze.
It was like deja vu. It sort of seemed familiar … and yet totally alien, too.
I stepped into my office and was about to set my briefcase down but then, just to make sure, I took a few steps backwards out into the hallway. Yep, that was my name on the door. Just making sure. It never hurts to be careful.
I fired up the ol’ computer. I stared blankly at the login screen. It seemed to be wanting some sort of password. Hmmm. What could it be? This serves The Company right for making us change our passwords every 45 days (while making sure it contains at least 12 characters, a mix of alphanumeric and special characters, a mix of upper and lowercase letters, nothing even vaguely similar to something we’ve used in the past, and no words found in the dictionary). Hell, it’s a miracle I remember it from day to day, let alone after an 18 day sabbatical!
I finally managed to get logged in. My email inbox was packed with emails sent by people before the holiday break who wanted everyone in the company to think they were busy the week before Christmas. Who ARE these people? Should I recognize these names? There’s only one way to resolve this.
There. Problem solved.
Now, what was I doing before the holidays? I seem to recall some sort of spreadsheet. Or maybe it was a PowerPoint. I’m pretty sure there were numbers in it. And a graph of some sort.
Maybe I’ll just hide in my office and hope everyone else is in the same boat as me.
[Note to self: Next Christmas, leave notes for myself before Christmas to remind me after Christmas what I was working on.]