As Mondays Go

My ”Positive Thinking” resolution, which may or may not last the year, serves me well. Every thought from “I believe that light will stay green” to “my meeting will go well” seems prophetic. I know I have no control over these things, but I'm enjoying the coincidences while they last.

The worst thing about getting back into a groove after the holidays is that first full five-day week. My determination to think positive clashed with my experience and natural anxiety, and I knew this Monday would be an exemplary hectic start to the week. I had a few hours to present new layouts and had yet to receive approval on my initial designs. I was covering for a friend on vacation who didn't expect I'd have to do anything but needed someone to be available just in case, and by ten o'clock I was in a meeting for one of his projects. And a problem which kept me late on Friday still wasn't resolved. By the end of the day though I'd figured it out, and now that I know what I did wrong the next time I do something similar will run smoother.

None of these things stressed me out. I made a list and was methodical. I prioritized and accomplished things in the order they needed to be done. I got everything done that I needed to without skipping lunch or working late. I even got exercise walking to an afternoon meeting on the third floor of our second building, and I made sure to take the stairs each time. Though huge in terms of square footage, our main building has only one floor and I lose the benefit of a stairwell.

At 4:30, I returned to my office, feeling a little warm. Temperatures were unseasonably high around here, about 53 degrees, and the heat was finally working in our building. When it was 20 degrees it was freezing, and now they got the heat working. I didn't want to sit and sweat, so I stopped in the restroom and employed the old trick of running cold water over my wrists to reduce my body temperature. It worked quickly, and I was feeling good. I was a mass of positive energy, on top of the world. I got work done, people liked what I did, and I felt popular. Wholly full of myself, there was only one probable improbable outcome.

As I grabbed the door knob to leave the rest room, the metal sphere turned and fell from my hand. I watched as the knob, guard plate, and washer all tumbled in slow motion to the tile below with a loud metallic “CLANG!”

“That did not just happen,” said I to an empty restroom, surveying the remains of the turning mechanism. Would my ”Escape the Room” gaming experience come in handy? Somehow I didn't expect to find tools, explosives, puzzles, or computers. The bathroom was a bit old, evidenced by the fact that the knob had fallen apart in my hand.

Fortunately, Panicky MCF wasn't in the room, only “Puts Stuff Back Together” MCF, with Kung-Fu Grip. I assembled the various pieces on the floor and fit them back in to the door, praying that I didn't push the outside knob out and really trap myself. Everything fit, the knob turned, and I was free after a mere 30 seconds. Telling no one about it was either that aspect of human nature where we figure someone else will solve a problem, or simply a further translation of the game analogy. Was I leaving it for others to beat my score?

Five minutes later, I heard metal hit the floor. Multiple voices down the hall discussed the oddity of it, and got fainter as the people clearly escaped. Ten minutes later, I heard almost the same sounds. Other people were getting trapped, temporarily fixing the problem long enough to escape, and moving on with their lives. It was the end of the day, and people didn't care. I didn't care.

As Mondays go, there are 17 different ways my day could have gone badly, and I felt great driving home having avoided every one of them and survived every trial. Four days remain, and if I spend any of them trapped in a restroom, it will probably be my fault. If the problem still exists, I should definitely mention it to someone. It's too soon to determine if this is another year in which I twist fate, or the one in which I finally begin to overrule it.