Underfoot

Late last week I decided I wanted a footstool for under my desk. There's a large storage area just beyond our office, so I went hunting. I tracked down an old wooden trash bucket, turned it upside down, and Shazam! It's even lined with felt on the "bottom" so that it won't scratch tile. My prayers are answered.

I was sitting at my desk with my shoes off and feet propped up, and my toes touched cables. I figured this was not a good thing, so I found a Zip-Tie and crawled under my desk to do some pruning.

That's when I heard The Voice. It wasn't my boss. It was my boss's boss. The head of the entire department was coming down to pay me a visit, and I was barefoot Lewinsky'ing around under my desk. I nearly ruptured something getting out of there quickly enough to appear normal for him.

I'm not good at appearing normal.

Later I got a private moment to wrangle my cables, so now I can kick back and relax without fear of electrocution. Good times.