putting out fires

Today, there was a big, fat fire in a giant plastic garbage can where I work. It was awesome. I hate that expression "putting out fires" -- people use that expression to imply a day full of relatively fruitless work, jumping from one emerging issue to another, wasting time basically when they should be concentrating on things they think are more important. Today we had a real fire and one of us, my pretend boyfriend Fat Tony, *actually* (not figuratively) put it out. With a fire-extinguisher, which left the whole drop-in-center coated in white powder. Did I mention it was awesome?

We evacuated the building while the alarms blasted all over and then, once the dust had literally settled and the fire truck was gone, we figured out that one of our clients, a funny, trollish little woman, had dumped an ash-tray from the smoking room into one of the big, plastic garbage cans in the drop-in-center. Turns out, for some reason, someone had just stuffed that can full of newspaper. Next thing you know... BLAM. Fire. It was really cool.

And that's exactly what five years working there will do to you -- it will make you into a person who feels gleeful in the face of fiery distruction and absurdity. Yee-haw! I love my job.