My week ended in a CSI kind of way.
And no, I’m not talking about the Crime Scene Investigation variety, even though Carson, my newspaper editor, leaves her epithelials everywhere she goes “just in case.” And no, I’m not talking about scenes involving yellow crime tape or chalk figures either, even though the day did entail a bit of investigative work and a few threats thrown in here and there.
Nope. CSI, in my teacher terminology, stands for…
C for Crisis
S for Situation
I for Incident
Yep, we had a crisis, situation and incident all wrapped into one. And to think the day had begun with such promise. It was the kind of day that started more or less as a “This-is-the-day-the-Lord-hath-made-let-us-rejoice-and-be-glad” kind of day. After all, it started with a Starbucks grande non-fat three raw sugar latte. What’s not to like about that?
But it quickly deteriorated into a “this-just-might-be-the-day-to- set-my-hair-on-fire- scream-yell-and-be-sad” kind of day.
Now I’d love to tell you about the “Crisis,” but, sorry, no can do. Super secret type stuff. Let’s just say it involved quite a bit of teen drama and angst and made me want to eat mass quantities of Emergency Chocolate and wonder what kind of crack I must have been smokin’ when years ago, I thought, “Gee, I think I’ll try that teaching thing.”
The “Situation” quickly followed the “Crisis.” Now, I’d really, really, really like to talk about that one too, but it involved a parental unit, and last time I checked, my husband told me I had to work, oh, another four years or so. (I swear sometimes he can be such a killjoy.) Suffice it to say that some people apparently aren’t fond of me and the teaching thing paired together. Who knew?
So now it’s about 5:15 p.m., and I’m just a tad bit grumpy. OK, so maybe more than just a tad and definitely much more than just a smidge grumpy. I’m still at school with the DIs (Darling Inspirations) on newspaper deadline and frantically trying to get things ready for our trip to Austin. The “Crisis” is about as resolved as it’s ever going to be, and the “Situation” will eventually fade away. I peered with some sadness into my empty Starbucks cup when I heard the words that pretty much will guarantee any adviser to catapult from her seat faster than the space shuttle on reentry.
It went something like this…
“Whoa,” shouted Mikey the Extraordinaire, “Did you you see that fireball?”
“Wow! It barely missed Natalie’s leg,” said Travis, semi-impressed.
“What!” yelled Natalie, who apparently narrowly missed getting scorched.
“Oh my God, Mikey, what did you do?” cried Gabrielle. “Look at my computer! Look at my computer!”
Although I was less than 10 steps away, by the time I got into the room, the computers were blank, the server connection gone, and the electrical socket on the back wall scorched.
Mikey apparently had had a Ben Franklin moment, and not in a good way either.
For our little CSI scenario, let’s just introduce Exhibit A…
Here’s the short version of how “The Incident” occurred…
Mikey spied a wayward staple resting on the face of the electrical socket. With pen in hand, he attempted to brush the wayward staple off the face of the electrical socket. Instead, somehow the tip of the pen got caught in the tiny crevice of the socket which, of course, sent a fireball out the plug, soldering the pen tip to the face of the socket and shorting out the entire electrical system––all within a nano second.
And you just thought CSI was exciting.