All muthafuckin-hell broke loose today. I arrived this morning not feeling at my most perky, but trying to fake it … to myself … because if I could only fool myself, then maybe I can fool everyone else. Upon my arrival (10:15 a.m.) I discovery that the power in the entire building is off. Power's out. All. Of. It.

You see, this presents a very precarious position for me, because being a temp, I know everyone, yet, no one really knows me. But, they feel the need to make daunting small talk with me about… whatever. I, being in the legion of Secretaries, am supposed to make small talk with the secretaries. This, I cannot stand. However, the partners won't engage me in conversation, because they think I am a secretary and therefore have the IQ of a subservient chinchilla (they would never outright admit this, but fuckme if it's not true).

Scene: Partners and Secretaries, standing idly in the courtyard, smoking cigarettes and making their trips to the StarBucks to kill time until the building is resuscitated: partners talking to stuffy-haughty partners, secretaries talking to shabby-slouchy secretaries. And me, standing there like a sardonic, trench-coat donning, sunglass wearing, cigarette smoking, 5 year old who just got transferred into a different Kindergarten, and doesn't know where to go to hide in order to avoid the rest of the screaming children.

The vultures appear: Les-bionic Woman and Tweedy Bird are looking at me. Shit. In my dazed state of lack of sleep and some sort of hangover (that of which I cannot name), I look lost and ignored. They feel sorry for me. Shit. I'm not sorry, I'm Happy. Shit. Bionic motions for me to come over and chat. She thinks I need some company. Shit! I have no way around this… what do I do?!? Wave her off? That would be rude, and she is a very temperamental lesbian, who you, essentially want on your side! Shit Shit Shit!

I approach the two and we engage in some sort of small talk, which quickly turns to gossip: "So, I heard you were sitting next to "V-woman" yesterday, yeah, she is great secretary, she really knows her –" … this continues for a measure of unbearable time, and I begin tuning out in an effort to save the one brain cell I didn't kill last night "…never help her again, I swear to god, she is so fat and she never does N-E-thing…" Oh, god. What do I Do? Cell phone. Text your friend, he'll call you. Text Him. PLEASE CALL ME. DESPERATE. NEED SOMEONE TO CALL. "…Yeah, she just never does anything, and look at her over there chatting it up with the partners, who does she… " Comon'Dude, please please please. I look longingly at my cell phone, while nodding a feign of interest. Please call. Please. Nothing. I look at Lesbian's partner in crime, TweedyBird, the entire time motionless except for her head bobbing up and down in agreeance. Look to phone: nothing. Tweedy: bob. Text him again. PLEASE YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND SEVERITY. GET ME OUT OF HERE! CALL ME! Nothing. Absolutelyfuckingnothing. Ten minutes has gone by, and I start to get weak, as I defiantly feel the last braincell frantically waving a white flag. I panic, then a moment of deafening clarity: bathroom? Yes, Bathroom! I have to go pee!!! Yes! "And she's just so catty, I –" I step in before BioGirl takes her next breath. "I'm sorry, do you know where the bathroom is out here?" She stops and examines me, searching for wry intentions, but then responds, "Oh, yeah, in the Garage, just ask one of the guys."

"Thanks a lot, I'll be right back," I say with a smile and briskly make my inelegant exit.

I go to the garage, no bathroom. I don't have to go anyway. I find a corner. I hide in the corner of the very dark, windy and cold garage, while frantically calling every friend I know trying to not be indicted again into that pit of despair. Just as I was about to consider what an overdose on Aleve would take, an elevator luckily begins to work again. I immediatly take it up and away from the courtyard of socially-hierarchical chaos to hide in one of the unlit conference rooms before someone finds out where I am - Honestly though, if I didn't say anything, that could probably take days.