I was going to post something different this morning, but then I almost died, so I changed my tack. Granted, my take on this morning’s events might be a slight exaggeration, but we’ll never know, now will we?
Here’s what happened. I work in a small studio space, one room, adorable, cozy, happy. And this morning I was making rice. I let it boil and then I turned the heat on the stove way down to simmer and walked away to work.
About 45 minutes later, I got up to get some water and realized that the flame on the stove was out, which made me realize that it smelled an awful lot like gas in my studio. And that I was dizzy (though that may have been psychosomatic – read, I have a very vivid, suggestable and active imagination).
So I opened up all of the windows, letting the rain and wind sweep through, literally clearing the air. The actress in me even stuck my head out the window and took in a nice deep breath.
After this close call, I’m thinking I need one of those buttons on my desk. A help button, an emergency button, an ‘I’ve fallen and I can’t get up button’. I mean, would I have had time to Skype Shauna or Ron or Leslie (who are always just an IM away) before my face hit my keyboard? Maybe if we had a codeword. Though my nose probably wouldn’t have the wherewithal to remember it, let alone enter it correctly as it falls forward.
As many of us here are freelancers – copywriting, designing, social media’ing – and work alone, I’m wondering: what’s the back-up plan? As in, who’s got your actual back? Is anyone aware of your whereabouts and health status? Is someone checking in to make sure you’re alive during the day?
How long would it have taken for someone to find me? I’m due at a Seder tonight at 5:30, so there’s that. But on a regular Monday? Oy, I shiver at the thought.
Personally, and for what it’s worth, if 5:00 came and went and I never bugged Shauna about one of the zillion client projects we’re working on or didn’t run something by Ron or didn’t just generally connect with Leslie or if one of them pinged me and I didn’t answer – they would know something was wrong. But by then it would be too late and I’d already be dead.
I’m very, uberly, wickedly superstitious. So now I’m worried that I’m writing my fate. If I do die mysteriously at my desk in the next few days, don’t get too creeped out, just know that I have mad intuitive skills – and see it as a nice little kick in the ass from me to: 1. Get some sort of back-up plan, and 2. Check your stove regularly when cooking rice.
Image credit: kharied