Early in my career I was a computer graphic artist at a major PR firm working on a literal Big Mac. Back in the day, those giant monitors were so deep that I needed a conference room table in my office just to house the monster. My office was on a high floor and I had a big window with plenty of natural light. So between the artificial brightness from my screen and the window, I never used the overhead florescents. But since I clocked so much overtime working late nights, I bought a fun pack of those glow in the dark stars and stuck them all over the walls so that when I’d be jamming on a project, I could enjoy the starry surroundings.
One night I was staffed on a new business pitch, deep in thought over a t-shirt I needed to design. Down the hall, light construction was going on– some ceiling repair or something, and because it was a little loud I closed my door. I was completely absorbed with my work when I had that strange sensation of being watched. So I happened to look down near my feet and sure enough I saw two beady eyes starting back at me in the form of a huge mouse! In one swift motion, I screamed a blood curdling murderous wail, and pushed my rolling chair back from the table and hopped up backwards right onto the seat ending in a full and upright position. (The East German judge gave me a 9.0 because I left out the half twist.)
In mere moments, two concerned construction workers barreled down the hall, barged into my office and flipped on the lights to see who had been screaming– they thought the office had been empty since all of the overhead lights were out! When they walked in they saw me hyperventilating while standing on my chair and they were easily as stunned to see me as I was to have seen the rodent. They helped me down, calmed me down and apologized for the noise. They also said that sometimes late-night construction led to late-night scurrying of furry friends displaced by the ruckus. Yeah, news I could have used earlier in the evening! After that encounter, I kept the lights on and the music loud to deter critters from future visits.
Unwanted visitors are never a good thing, even if you know and like them. I had a friend who used to pop by unexpectedly on various days at inopportune times. I’d just be out of the shower, or sitting down to dinner, or getting ready to go out. She’d scream into the intercom, “11F? Surprise! It’s 9B!” (Before cell phones she used to refer to all of her friends based on their apartment numbers. Yeah, I’m old.) And then she’d jog right up and not care that your hair was dripping wet and your bathrobe was half on, or your dinner was partially eaten and still on the table!
Sometimes even wanted visitors can be a drag. If you’ve had a long day, don’t feel like cooking or the weather sucks, it can be hard to talk yourself into being excited to socialize. I once got my friend Alison a card that said, “Nothing ruins your day quite like having your plans not get canceled.” She loved it and I can totally relate to this emotion.
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