Embarrassment

Can someone die from embarrassment? I know that you can want to die from embarrassment, but I really do wonder if at some point it can all build up to a level that actual kills you. Today, I am positive I got close. Today is Friday, October 30, the day before Halloween. It also happens to be the day when I nearly expired from embarrassment and wished that a hole would open up in the Earth to suck me down so that I would be consumed by the hot liquid core of this planet. Honestly, that seemed preferable to my predicament. To really understand we must rewind a bit…

During Halloween 2013 and Halloween 2014 I worked at the Multnomah County Courthouse. A place that required suits or similarly professional clothes be worn every single day of the year. In the back of my mind I always thought it would be fun if there was one day per year we were allowed to wear whatever we wanted. And what better day than Halloween, I thought. Let all the workers dress up in costumes. Wouldn’t it be amazing to see a courtroom presided over by someone in a giant bee costume? Seemed like a solid idea. I was wrong.

In September I left the Courthouse for a job at Nike. Yes, the Nike. I now commute to Beaverton, OR

(not that far of a commute, actually) every day to the amazingly beautiful Nike World Headquarters. It’s actually a really stunning place (or “campus,” as they like to call it). I started when summer still lingered in Oregon and quickly found a favorite bench on which to eat lunch every day next to Lake Nike in the center of campus. I often arrive at work just as the sun is peaking over the horizon and once even arrived minutes after a small shower left an early morning rainbow hovering over the campus. It’s an incredible place, but it’s also taken a lot of adjustment on my part, particularly in regards to clothing. Nike is a very casual place. Everyone (and I do mean everyone, even the lawyers) wears jeans to work every day. Most people wear at least one article of Nike clothing and some are covered in the Swoosh from head to toe. I went from a work environment that demanded the highest levels of formality to a place where that level of professional attire instantly brands you a weirdo outsider, something I learned first-hand. (Let’s just say that my first day on the job was a bit of an eye opener and leave it at that.) Since I started I’ve worked hard and (mostly) managed to conform my wardrobe to Nike expectations, although I think I’m still a little more formally dressed than the multitudes (I still

haven’t come to work dressed like I’m about to head to the gym yet as several of my coworkers are wont to do).

On Friday, October 30 though, I managed to ruin all my hard work. Two weeks ago I received an email from the head of my department (which oversees the entirety of Nike Administration – basically anything that has to do with how Nike actually operates as a company) stating that Nike would be celebrating Halloween on October 30^th this year and that they would be holding their annual costume competition and trick-or-treating event. Each sub-department would need to pick a theme and have everyone dress accordingly. A competition would then be held to judge the costumes and a pizza party lunch provided to the winning group. Additionally, in the late afternoon, kids from Nike’s day care center would arrive for trick-or-treating throughout the campus. Upon reading this email I was moderately excited and started thinking up ways to get my group to agree to go as Captain Planet and the Planeteers (an awesome environmentalist cartoon from my childhood) since I already had a Planeteer costume from years past. Unfortunately, before I could even begin the draft of my email, I received an email that stated our group had decided (without my input evidently) that we would all dress up for sports from the summer Olympics. I should have known it would be something like this. I mean, this is Nike after all. Of course it would be sports related. *Rolling eyes*

A follow-up email soon arrived listing all the possible summer Olympic sports. Now, I am not a sporty person. I don’t enjoy playing most sports and I hate watching pretty much all sports (I will make occasional exceptions for watching in person, which is moderately more exciting, but that is limited to baseball and soccer). But swimming was on the list and I have been a swimmer since I was 9 years old, so I had the “costume” in the bag and wouldn’t have to purchase anything. It seemed like a no brainer.

Well, today was the day and I donned my costume before leaving for work. I wore my swim suit, hair in a messy bun, goggles around my neck, swim cap tucked into the top strap of my bathing suit, a pair of sweats, a fuzzy sweater to zip over my suit, a pair of flip flops on my feet and a towel slung around my neck. I was ready to go kick some butt in this contest. And then I arrived at work. Where everyone was dressed normally. Yes, they had all worn their regular clothes and planned to change later in the day since the competition judging wouldn’t occur until 2:00 pm. *Face, meet palm*

What makes this all that much worse was the fact that on the entire drive to work I felt uncomfortable. Even after two months working at Nike I feel discomfort wearing casual clothing to my work place. And I couldn’t help but ponder how horrible it would be if this was all some massive joke on me – something along the lines of Bridget Jones’ Diary or Legally Blond. But, I figured that wouldn’t actually be the case – I mean the email had come from the head of Admin herself. This couldn’t be a prank of some kind and I hadn’t misunderstood the order to dress up. Well, I figured wrong. I am stuck in my very own Tarts and Vicars nightmare. Thank god I’m not dressed in a skimpy bunny costume. Nope. Just a skimpy bathing suit instead.

The only thing that saved me from actually perishing at this point is the fact that I packed a shirt and undergarments in my purse in case I wanted to change before leaving for work. Upon realizing my faux pas I immediately hoofed it to the bathroom and at least lost the suit for a couple hours. But, I’m still stuck in my sweats, flip flops and other assorted accoutrements of my costume. So, now I’m hiding out in my cubicle, willing the universe to provide me some means of escape: a wormhole, a sudden ability to teleport, or even an earthquake would be most welcome.

Oh yeah, and to make things even more interesting, as soon as I sat at my desk my stomach decided to start rumbling and growling for no apparent reason. I’m fairly certain everyone in the building could hear it. So, while the earthquake itself hasn’t come to my rescue yet, it sure sounds like it has. Now, please excuse me while I hide under my desk until this atrocious and embarrassing day is over. And if Scotty is out there reading this…beam me up already. 

When Friday Let's You Down

We worked all the week and waited so long,
Yet Monday through Thursday dragged on and on.
Garfield taught me when I was a small child,
That Mondays are terrible and not worth your while.
And Tuesdays I know are simply the worst,
Not half through the week yet, but no longer the first.
On Wednesdays you throw your fists in the air,
For at noon you realize you're now half-way there.
But there's still so much time left in the week,
Before you will reach those free days you seek.
Thursday you manage because Friday is near,
So close you can taste it, soon we will cheer.
And then it is Friday, and at 5 you'll be free,
For Friday's half weekend, it's plain as can be.
And most of the time this system holds true,
Friday's the best day and you are renewed.
But at 8 in the morning 5 may be too far away,
Endless time stands still, a steep wall in our way.
What do you do in those terrible times?
When it feels like your sanity is placed on the line?
Today Friday is surely the worst of them all,
Excuse me while I sob under my desk in a ball.