Dear front-desk, I would like to highly recommend myself for the position of minding the office while you “quickly pop out for a sec”.
Whether it is ten minutes in the bathroom, reshuffling your undergarments and looking for a safety pin; ordering a quick soy macchiato and a fortune cookie from the corner kiosk to get you through to lunchtime, or even running down the high street flailing at the traffic inspector that you’re just about to put more coins into that meter – I am here for your temporary administration needs.
I can reorganise all the post-it notes into alphabetical order, by their colour.
I can sit and look sternly at the computer screen, that you’ve thoughtfully locked on your way out, and yet still appear as if I am dealing with Very Important Documentation. This will be accompanied by random clicking of the mouse, making the helpful “password please?” box pop up out of the screensaver of your last holiday snaps from Bali.
I can deftly knit together a chain of paperclips, with the intention of beating my previous record (6 meters / 19 feet 87⁄32 inches).
I can even respond to simple requests, such as:
“Is Professor Mphfrmprmph in?”
“Why No, I Am Not Authorised To Give That Information But There Is One Who Will Come After Me (Oh Yes) Who Will Have The Answers That You Seek…”
The Stationary Cabinet that you’ve firmly locked, possibly because you’re aware that the potential lure of several boxes of paperclips is one that I cannot ignore, especially when I might be able to beat 19 feet 87⁄32 inches.
All of this is blissful fun and games, until An Office Superior And Clearly Better comes past, notices that I’m breaking quarantine and sends me home in disgrace in order to fill in my prescription, go back to bed and heed the suggestion that taking so much Codral that my mucus membranes shrivel up and face starts shedding scales may very well not be the best way to deal with the flu.
Podcast out later today, once I can wash all the different colour highlighter pen shades off my fingernails.