The Grass Outside the Office Doors

Today I was late to work. I pulled in at 8:03 and couldn't find one single parking space. As I slinked around the parking lot I wished I'd left 15 minutes early. Actually, 12 minutes earlier and I would have gotten a spot. I think those HR and facilities people plan it this way. If you are late to work then you have to creatively design your own spot knowing full well security will give you a ticket that promises you will be reported to management.

But what does management do with this information? I mean really - I parked in an illegal spot. Are the parking police traipsing around the lot just waiting to nab my little blue car? Do they open our car doors during the day and take our gum and change out of the middle cup when we aren't looking or do they sell the information to thieves about who has the best CD players and radios?

Now I'm starting to sweat it. My face is flushed with worry since my phone displays 2 more minutes have passed. I make an executive decision to pull in by this big rusty container on the grass. It's raining outside and I'm miles away from my cube. At this rate it will be 8:12 before I clock in.

I get out and toss my laptop bag across my shoulders before stepping onto the soggy grass. I sink about an inch. Immediately my brain is alerted to the fact that my car is much heavier than I. Struggling to avoid the visual of the tires sinking I try to pretend it doesn't bother me that little clear bubbles are popping on the tires and a sort of settling, no, sucking sound is coming from my car.

I jump back in the car and put it into reverse. I slide and spin the tires just a little as I carefully pull out of the non-creative, creative spot that I'd just made and then lost. My cubicle clock was probably at 8:10 already. I have to start begging the gods for mercy and prepare to face this parking nightmare head-on.