Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Hi, I am MOD, nice to meet you.

EDIT: MOD STRIKES AGAIN: Somehow this post lost it's pictures do to my technical failings. WHOOPS.

I make it a policy to not put stuff about work on the internet...and this is more about the work space, and zero about my company. All details have been removed to protect the guilty innocent.


I'd like to introduce you to my alter ego.


I have quite the plethora of spiritual gifts.

In no particular order, they are, Excel spreadsheets, Words With Friends, and finding anything about anyone on the internet.

I am also exceptionally gifted at destroying things.

A few years ago, my coworkers started calling me Maude. Well, I thought it was Maude.

It was really M.O.D.

Which stands for Master. Of. Disaster.

I have worked at my office for almost seven years.

It is a gorgeous office. We have views of the Bay and the surrounding area.

Glass everywhere. Open floor plan. Tile. Granite. Cherry finished furniture.

Anytime someone new stops in they immediately compliment the views along with the gorgeousness of the details.

However, in those (almost) seven years, I have maimed the following parts of our office:

The carpet, from an Amish Friendship Bread leak...

The wall from my desk from a teal gel pen that I left open and touching the fabric overnight - it absorbed into the fabric partition...

One time, someone gave me a peel and stick white board that I stuck to the wall behind my desk. I never use it, but I left is up. And a few years later I went to peel it away, only to see discoloration around it...So now I just leave it as is....

And my most epic disaster.
The disaster of all disasters.
I had only worked here a year or two.
And I was sitting at the front shared desk.
And I spun around in the chair.
And heard what sounded like a round of firecrackers.
Or an AK-47.
Not that I really know what an AK-47 sounds like.
And shrapnel particles were FLYING through the air.

The back of the chair, scraped the edge of the desk, and chipped off a million little chunks. Just like this one.

My coworkers were with me. And I think we all froze in total fear.
What had I done??
And could it be undone?

I immediately dropped the floor and picked up the little cherry colored particles.
And then matched each half moon shape to its corresponding hole in the desk.
And I did what any terrified employee would do.
I found the Elmers glue.
And glued each little particle back on.
I smoothed as best as I could.
Tried to make each piece flush with the desk.
And said a little prayer.
That no one would notice.

And you wont believe it.
A few weeks later.
I did it again.
More shrapnel.
More Elmers.
More prayers.
A lot of laughing.
It was holding me back from crying.

Every few weeks, I'd notice that some of the pieces were starting to come off.
I'd bust out the glue. And get those suckers back on.
I did NOT want anyone to notice.

But how do you not notice this.

Eventually, the pieces fell off, and were not recovered.
And the disaster area had been noticed.
And no one seemed to care that much.
Cheap quality was to blame.
Not me. 
Thank goodness.
It totally was an accident after all.


Anyway, until last week, M.O.D. status was solely reserved for yours truly. 

But on Friday, I walked around the office and saw this awesomeness:

My Coworker (who shall remain nameless..but maybe we should call her Maude) - was fully missing the front of her desk drawer.

Yet the drawer itself was still in place.

And up close:

Sorry for the blurry cell phone pics.
Do you see what Maude had done? 
I was dying laughing and wondering what in the world had happened after I had left Thursday evening.

Apparently, there was something in that drawer that absolutely had to be reached. And the locking mechanism had malfunctioned and the middle drawer was locked shut, and the top and bottom drawers unlocked. The key would not work, and even fiddling with the mechanism with a screwdriver did not work.

So Maude did what any other person would do when it was crunch time. 

She put the screwdriver to another use. And pried the face of her drawer right off.

I think this means I have officially passed the crown, torch, title, of Master Of Disaster onto Coworker Maude. 


  1. dying. DYING. the smell from the amish bread carpet must be so foul by now. b/c that smell is foul when it starts - contained in a bag. and the ads that come up after your post are for office furniture. tell your boss to step it up a quality notch.

  2. I still love this story, nice to see the evidence to go along with it lol. Too bad most office furniture is always crappy like that, side-effect of being made from particle board.

  3. maude. love it. i may or may not be your twin. let's just say, the office world is a better place, now that i am a stay at home mom.

  4. OK, that is pretty much the funniest thing ever.
    Are you Maude in your own place too,
    or is it at least isolated to your work area?

    The gel pen incident make me laugh the most,
    because the same thing may have happened to
    one of the boys' reports this year.



  5. "master of disaster" that is funny... as long as it's in your work place. this is limited to your work place right (can you tell someone is just a bit...okay A LOT o.c.d.)?