The insanity of our unsafety

What I didn’t tell you about the disaster of my foot the other day, is that I was out with a friend from work. Strangely enough, her name is also Megan. She’s quitting, to go into a more creative position for a pretty amazing company. Today I realized it’s probably a very good thing. We’re more of a hazard to one another than good coworkers.

You think I’m exaggerating? I’m not. Let’s lay it out, shall we?

Since we were hired at approximately the same time, and we work the same position, and we’re about the same age, and there’s another Megan, and we’re all three white, people had a hard time keeping us straight.

So our names were, “Happy Megan, Megan-with-the-hair, and Megan Three (third, number 3, to the third power, cubed, newest, tallest, etc.).” I finally asked them to call me, “Megan Rose” and “with-the-hair” [she has curls] I called, “Megan-in-the-Middle”.

Our managers considered it great fun to purposely schedule us all three at once, and place us side-by-side, then walk by calling, “Hey, Megan!” Three heads snap to attention.

Have I mentioned my managers might not be challenged enough in their daily lives? Just a thought.

Anyway. In response to this ridiculousness, one evening Megan-in-the-Middle and Megan Rose (I) decided to go dancing. Easy enough. Except that somewhere on a crowded dance floor, I leaned away from someone else, toward Megan-in-the-Middle, and got stuck. Nose ring stuck. In her hair. Ouch That’s my nose, stuck in her curls, on a loud and crowded dance floor. Ooops. We managed to get untangled pretty quickly, with me going sans Nose ring. Went to the bathroom, looked for the nose ring in her hair. No luck.

Shortly after that, we decided to leave. On the way to our car, I ran into another coworker. Stopped to say good-bye, twisted funny, looking one way, talking the other and fell backward. Sidewalks with people on them are just a bit tricky!

Strike two for the disasters of Megan-Squared.

Today was Megan-in-the-Middle’s last day, and I got a text from her after work, “I had an asthma attack at work.”

When I asked what the trigger was, she said it had started with a dog, then some allergies, then she cleaned her hands with some orange hand sanitizer, and she happens to be allergic to some of the dyes in it, plus some other irritants at work.

Funny thing about that orange hand sanitizer. It’s mine.

Let’s sum this up. In a 6 day period, I have lost my nose right to her hair, fallen off a sidewalk while walking beside her, and then helped bring on an Asthma attack for Megan-in-the-Middle.

We’re basically deadly to one another, and this shouldn’t be taken lightly.

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