TIHL #17 How to Use a Microwave (apparently...)
I suppose it could be considered fate that I pulled what will probably go down in history as a "classic Erinn move" on this, the day of my blogging anniversary. I don't call my blog "The Things I Haven't Learned" because of my extreme grace and overall adeptness at life, let me tell you. It's not an exaggeration to say that I have been having somewhat of a tough week. Although my job is going well, I must admit I was not quite prepared for a lot of the stressors that go along with working on an Alzheimer's unit full-time. (Not the least of which is our cats' self-regulating water dish, which I manage to spill all over the floor every single day as I try to quickly flip it over and stick it into the kennel!) I figure that with practice, I will begin to overcome this and other difficulties.
Today was going well. I had met some people on the unit who I hadn't previously encountered, I had led several successful groups, and I had even made it to work early, despite the beginnings of a major winter storm challenging my timely arrival. It was 4:15, and all I had left to do was co-facilitate a drum circle group that is nearly always successful and a lot of fun. Since there were three other music therapists (one of whom was my boss) and interns getting the group started, I thought nothing of running downstairs to the vending machine when a resident asked if I could buy her a bag of microwave popcorn. I ran back up the three flights, threw the popcorn bag in the microwave for what I thought was the recommended two minutes and thirty seconds, and was immediately distracted by one of our more difficultly-behaving resident's entry into the room. To my surprise (more like shock, actually), he seemed amenable to the idea of dancing with me, so I decided to take advantage of this rare opportunity. Everything was going swimmingly until I saw the look of horror on my boss's face and his wild gestures toward something on the wall opposite to me. After a moment of initial confusion, I turned around to see a grand amount of smoke veritably POURING out of the microwave. I'm not sure what happened next, but I know it involved someone pulling the bag out of the microwave, water being turned on, smoke alarms sounding, and doors closing. We quickly evacuated everyone from the smoky room, and started fanning the air by the smoke detector. In light of the stress of the whole week, I burst into tears because not only had I nearly burned the building down, but I had ruined drum circle. Everyone assured me that it would be ok, and that this had happened to many others before me. I was just starting to feel a little bit better when I heard the sound of sirens wailing in the distance. Oh yes, naturally my innocent popcorn oversight had been grave enough for the fire department to send one lone firefighter up to our floor to investigate. I then had to explain to him that it had been my fault, I was the ditz who had forgotten that she was popping corn in the microwave. Feeling somewhat dejected, I went back downstairs to buy the resident a new bag of popcorn. At this point, it was time to call it a day. I grabbed a few things out of my office and started for the stairs. "Goodbye, see you tomorrow!" I called to one resident (NOT the one whose popcorn I had destroyed, incidentally), cheerfully as I could muster, as I opened the door. "F&%$ you, woman!" came the angry reply. Naturally.
I wish that this tale had a redeeming ending, like the firefighter dispatched to my aid being young and handsome, and the two of us falling madly in love. Now that, that is the stuff that Lifetime movies are made of. But alas, this was of course not to be. The fireman was kinda old, and besides, I don't think firefighters dig chicks who are pyro-morons. The way the story acutally ended was that I then spent 15 minutes digging my car out of its street parking spot, during which time I fell into a snowbank, got soaking wet, and got stuck multiple times. (Actually, a couple of young men who were outside building a snow fort in the condos across the street did come and give me a push out of my parking spot...) As the closing credits rolled, the cameras panned shots of me driving home in the biggest blizzard in 5 years. I don't think that one will ever make it to the big screen. Happy March, everyone. ;-)
Today was going well. I had met some people on the unit who I hadn't previously encountered, I had led several successful groups, and I had even made it to work early, despite the beginnings of a major winter storm challenging my timely arrival. It was 4:15, and all I had left to do was co-facilitate a drum circle group that is nearly always successful and a lot of fun. Since there were three other music therapists (one of whom was my boss) and interns getting the group started, I thought nothing of running downstairs to the vending machine when a resident asked if I could buy her a bag of microwave popcorn. I ran back up the three flights, threw the popcorn bag in the microwave for what I thought was the recommended two minutes and thirty seconds, and was immediately distracted by one of our more difficultly-behaving resident's entry into the room. To my surprise (more like shock, actually), he seemed amenable to the idea of dancing with me, so I decided to take advantage of this rare opportunity. Everything was going swimmingly until I saw the look of horror on my boss's face and his wild gestures toward something on the wall opposite to me. After a moment of initial confusion, I turned around to see a grand amount of smoke veritably POURING out of the microwave. I'm not sure what happened next, but I know it involved someone pulling the bag out of the microwave, water being turned on, smoke alarms sounding, and doors closing. We quickly evacuated everyone from the smoky room, and started fanning the air by the smoke detector. In light of the stress of the whole week, I burst into tears because not only had I nearly burned the building down, but I had ruined drum circle. Everyone assured me that it would be ok, and that this had happened to many others before me. I was just starting to feel a little bit better when I heard the sound of sirens wailing in the distance. Oh yes, naturally my innocent popcorn oversight had been grave enough for the fire department to send one lone firefighter up to our floor to investigate. I then had to explain to him that it had been my fault, I was the ditz who had forgotten that she was popping corn in the microwave. Feeling somewhat dejected, I went back downstairs to buy the resident a new bag of popcorn. At this point, it was time to call it a day. I grabbed a few things out of my office and started for the stairs. "Goodbye, see you tomorrow!" I called to one resident (NOT the one whose popcorn I had destroyed, incidentally), cheerfully as I could muster, as I opened the door. "F&%$ you, woman!" came the angry reply. Naturally.
I wish that this tale had a redeeming ending, like the firefighter dispatched to my aid being young and handsome, and the two of us falling madly in love. Now that, that is the stuff that Lifetime movies are made of. But alas, this was of course not to be. The fireman was kinda old, and besides, I don't think firefighters dig chicks who are pyro-morons. The way the story acutally ended was that I then spent 15 minutes digging my car out of its street parking spot, during which time I fell into a snowbank, got soaking wet, and got stuck multiple times. (Actually, a couple of young men who were outside building a snow fort in the condos across the street did come and give me a push out of my parking spot...) As the closing credits rolled, the cameras panned shots of me driving home in the biggest blizzard in 5 years. I don't think that one will ever make it to the big screen. Happy March, everyone. ;-)
posted by Erinn @ 6:59 PM
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