Declarations of a King: Be Like the Boy Who Lived

Talking about my allergen has really gotten annoying. Living with my allergen is even more annoying than constantly blogging about it. Today, I did the unthinkable. I somehow deleted the Regulatory folder on the V:/Drive. Oh, you mean the one that contains electronic documents dating back 30+ years? Or the one that holds every single project any given Regulatory member is working on? Or the one that holds the most time sensitive submissions for the FDA? Why yes. That would be the one I am talking about.

I was sitting happily at my desk adding a missing volume to the Application Repository when I get a mass email from one of my coworkers.

First Mass Email :"Who changed something in the Application Repository? I can't get back into the folder anymore"

Mild panic.

Second Mass Email: "The Application Repository folder is missing"

Mounting Panic.

Third Mass Email: "The entire Regulatory folder has been deleted"-my boss

Massive panic.

The following questions came to my mind:

1. If I jump from the third floor, will I die or just end up breaking all my bones and getting a ticket for attempting suicide in a public place.?

2. If I set fire to my computer and run out the door, will it be obvious that it was me?

3. Will I have to ask Toothless Tom on 9th if I can share his refrigerator box now that my chance of having any sort of job involving computers has been obliterated?

I peeked cautiously over the top of my cubicle wall to see if anyone else was reading their emails. I ducked down so fast when I saw what was going on that I ended up knocking all of my papers all over the floor. (which was an excellent opportunity to hide under my desk). This is what I saw: Pure Hysteria

My co-workers were running around to each others cubicles wringing their hands and asking in panicked voices what was going on.

As I debated whether someone would notice if I spent the night under my desk, I decided to be like the boy who lived (THREE DAYS EVERYBODY!!!!) and face imminent death. I shakily walked up to my boss' desk and said, "I think I was the one who deleted the folder". He was busy cradling a phone on his shoulder talking to IT and scanning through the folders to see what happened as one tear fell down his cheek. Then the third worst thing that happened today (the second will be revealed shortly), by distracting my boss with my confession, he accidentally moved the second most important folder in our department. Did you notice how I said the word moved instead of deleted? My brief redemption came from the fact that I did not, in fact, delete the folder. I (or someone else might have...but let's be honest, who else has as bad of luck with technology?) moved it to another folder. One in which no one had access to...

He shrugged in his distraction and turned away to try and solve the unfortunate heap of disaster I had dropped on my department.

I slipped outside the building and prayed it had all been a dream (still praying for this in fact). I got in Old Yeller and drove as swiftly home as I could. I probably could have made it in twenty-five minutes if Mister Semi hadn't decided to miraculously block me off in every lane. Mister Semi had no idea what he was messing with. As I stared angrily at his back side, a retched smell filled my nostrils and an onslaught of black began pelting my windshield. The dinosaur-esque Semi had blown a tire and was now threatening to end my life. This was not okay. I had just escaped the dark clenches of death (for the day) and was looking forward to getting a free slurpee from 7-11. My guardian angel (who I should really give a raise to for all of his overtime work for the past 21 years) saved me and helped me switch into the other lane before the semi stopped cold in the middle of the highway.

Today was a good day. This is me being optimistic. Be impressed. I am still alive. (Until tomorrow when my co-workers take revenge).

And Mugs and I went to the aquarium the other day.