An Ode To “Work From Home”

I find myself facedown in shag carpeting. I’m disoriented. I don’t know what day, or year, I’m in. Something sweet tickles the outer edges of my lips, and my fingers find their way to my face. I brush off flecks of powdered sugar, and, immediately, my eyes adjust to take in the various donuts littering my vicinity. Some nondescript afternoon talk show blares in the distance.

My hands start to shake as I reach for my phone.

‪I turn on Siri. “Call… 9-1-1,” I croak out in a faint whisper.‬

Siri replies a beat later in an automated, Australian male accent: “Calling 911 Emergency Services.”

‪I sink deeper into the carpeting. ‬

‪I try to recall the events that brought me to this moment in life. Everything’s blank. It’s as if someone wiped the slate of my memory clean away.‬

‪I’m shaken out of my slight stupor as a 911 call center attendant’s voice echoes through the tinny speakers of my Apple iPhone. “911, what’s your emergency?”‬

‪“I-I don’t know,” I answer truthfully.

“Can you explain the situation to me, ma’am?” She repeats, firmly this time.

“Well, I-I work from home.”‬

‪As if I uttered the magic words, the attendant immediately speaks with a newfound sense of urgency.‬

‪“Not to worry, ma’am. We will have someone out to your location in 10 minutes or less,” her words start to trip over each other as her breath quickens. “Stay right where you are. If your laundry beeps or your boss Slacks you, disregard. We are here to help.”‬

‪I release a sigh of pure relief. The phone slips from my grasp and I feel a sense of calm wash over my body.

Help is on its way‬.

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