We know what Zoom meetings look like on our side of the screens – watching our colleagues bobbing in and out of their respective boxes, changing the volume and turning the mute button on, then off, indiscriminately.
I learned my Zoom lesson, “Are you kidding me? What is she doing? What is she wearing?”
“Mom, you’re not on mute.”
Do you think about what is happening on the other side of your screen?
I had a work Zoom meeting last week. It started at 9:00 AM eastern time, which sadly meant 6:00 AM my time. I am not a good morning person. The entire night before, I tossed and worried I wouldn’t wake up. 2:00, 3:00 and finally, when my 5:00 AM alarm sounded, I was already half awake. Begrudgingly, I got up.
It was pouring rain, sheets of rain, like Mother Nature had turned on the spigot from atop my roof. This doesn’t seem like much of a pronouncement, what with the current climate, but here in California it’s a big deal. As if the entire drought needed to be ended in one morning.
I ran downstairs only to find water quickly filling up my back patio, lapping up against my sliding glass door. To compound matters, the minor leak from the deck above had opened up, creating a waterfall cascading down into the kitchen. I grabbed whatever towels I could find; bath towels, kitchen towels, anything to build a dam.
“No, Bullet,” I looked at my dog, “I’m not building an ark just yet.” Flooding is my second biggest fear after early morning rising.
The garage was equally flooded with water pouring in rapidly through the garage door. The small drain just outside had already filled with debris: leaves, mud and muck. I bent down and did the best I could in the early morning darkness to clear it.
Now it was 5:45 AM. My restful start to this early morning had been destroyed – barely enough time to start the coffee maker. Bullet was following close to my side, hinting that even though it was early he still would like his breakfast. I looked at the clock, the time was whizzing by or I was moving slowly, either way it was now 5:53 AM.
“Fine.” I grabbed his bowl, dashed back into the garage, slogged my way through the water to the kibble container, flung the top open.
“AAAAGH!” Great! The trifecta of my biggest fears, my kryptonite… a rat was enjoying Bullet’s doggy kibble breakfast first. My reflexes kicked in and I slammed the lid shut, trapping him inside. Quivering, I grabbed the entire bucket. I could feel him bouncing around against my arms, trying to get out. I slogged back outside, threw the container on the ground and popped the lid off, “Hope you can swim, buddy.”
Totally rattled and soaked to the bone, I grabbed my cup of coffee and ran to my computer. It was 6:04 AM. I loaded Zoom, punched the button, “Yes, I want to join the meeting”, and seconds later the checkerboard of workmates popped before me. What also popped up was my 4th biggest fear, getting caught in my jammies at work. Whereas all my workmates were dressed in business attire, at least from the waist up, I was wearing a wet, pink, fuzzy bathrobe covered in dirt, leaves, dog kibble, and possibly rat poop.
“Are you kidding me?”
“What is she doing?”
“What is she wearing?”
I could hear them murmuring until my boss cut them off, “Guys, you’re not on mute.”
“Good morning,” I said, making sure I wasn’t on mute.
“MOM, THERE IS A DEAD BAT IN MY ROOM!” Lindsay screamed horrifically.
“A dead bat? As in the Corona virus bat?”
My workmates shuttered. I zoomed past third base and slid into home!
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