This Will Be the Post That Gets Me Fired

Cartoon from Married to the Sea

Today I resorted to something that, while I never explicitly swore I would not do, I feel is pretty implict as one of those things "reasonable" people do not do. I took a nap under my desk.

I woke up again this morning feeling really sick- this weather gives me migranes which in turn makes me nauseated. But I didn't want to take a day off work since I left early last Friday. Also, I'm really fortunate to be going to a Broadway show tonight, free of charge, thanks to MuppetLover's good catch. So really, all I wanted was to feel well and get on with my day. 8:20am found me dressed and chugging anti-nausea medication on the platform waiting for the 6 Train. Mmm. Emitrol Mustache. I got to the office and in the course of an hour had some yogurt and oatmeal to try to settle my stomach then took some prescription Migrane medicine. I still felt awful.

I knew my options were limited: go home and go to bed, sit around all day with my head between my knees and spittle forming in the corners of my mouth being totally useless or ... or... I knew if I could just lay down in a darkened room for a stretch I'd feel somewhat better. I could go camp out in a stall in the ladie's room or hope to remain undiscovered in the darkened conference room ... if only I could sleep at my desk! Then I'd be close to the phone so I could pop up in an emergency to answer it [possibly under the pretext that I was just searching for a lost earring down there?].

Thus began my "under-desk sleeping feasability study". I'd have to clear some stuff out, like many women I keep an extra two pairs of shoes under my desk. Unlike other women, I also have a set of freshly laundered sheets and a spare pair of pants under my desk for reasons we won't go into right now. Could I fit? Oh hell yes, I could fit. But this is ridiculous, I would never crawl under my desk in the middle of the work day and take a nap.

But now the seed was planted in my brain. I longed to lay down and rest my eyes; I wanted under the desk and badly. I knew I had to wait until after 10:45am, when one of my colleagues would leave for a meeting and no doubt would want to exchange a few words before he left. Soon, I was counting the minutes. When he finally got the hell out of my office I looked around then got down on my hands and knees. It was dirty under my desk, fossilized crumbs abounded from the not-too-distant past when I was always eating cupcakes and muffins at my desk. So as not to mess up my clothes, I gingerly laid out a sheet and I rolled up the pair of pants as a pillow. I moved around some shoes and my purse, rearranged some wires and then slipped under the desk.

The most important thing was that I fit all the way under the desk. If someone came by and saw a leg sticking out they would probably think I had fainted or been stabbed by the FedEx Guy (who today called me "Babe"). In this scenario, the co-worker would probably freak out and make a scene. I didn't want a scene, I just wanted some quality time under my desk. It is not very often that being 4 feet, 10 and one half inches tall comes in handy but today was one of those magical days. I thought I might have to crawl up in the fetal position, but as it was I could stretch out, all the way out, with room to spare. I pulled my chair in. I was as close to invisible as it was possible to be.

Everything was different under my desk. It was cool and dark. Sounds were muffled. I crossed my hands over me, closed my eyes and took deep breaths. I started to feel better. People continued to come by my desk, which is the social focal point in the office. No one said anything but I could hear them linger, casually turning the pages of the newspaper waiting for me to return and say something fun and outrageous. But I didn't return; was under the desk. Someone walked by and drummed his fingers on the desk which was quite loud where I was. I assumed he did this only when I was sitting at my desk as a friendly gesture. I guess now it's some kind of Tourettic tic? The phone didn't ring. It was as if I had actually stumbled into an alternate universe. I was happy.

But everytime I started drifting off to sleep, a noise made me jump. Honestly, I was terrified of being found. At my age, being found sleeping under your desk is not "cute"; it's kind of "disturbing". I didn't want to leave, but I knew I had to return to the surface world. When I heard the person with the office closest to my desk leave to go to the men's room I pushed the chair back and carefully climbed out. Then I folded up the sheet and shoved everything back under the desk. I pulled out my compact and checked my appearance. A little tousseled maybe, but not quite "I just had a quickie in the copy room" tousseled. I couldn't believe I was going to get away with this. All told, I was in my lair for about 25 minutes. One minute later the Mail Carrier walked in and handed me the mail.

I still feel sick but I also feel better, like I have regained the will to carry on. Although it was at times harrowing, I have mostly fond memories of my time under the desk. I hope to go back there someday.