Things you think when you're bored at work...

Apparently at some point last week whilst listening to my voicemails I pushed a button that somehow slowed down the speed at which I hear said voicemail messages.

Now it sounds as if everyone leaving me a message is intoxicated. Beyond intoxicated, full on drunk. At first I just assumed that maybe our department secretary was a little hungover. Not that I've ever seen her hung over but she seems like the hip partying type, and I'm not one to judge (Shut up. I can hear you.) so I just assumed as much. But then someone else left me a voicemail and they sounded drunk too.

Subsequently, I wondered if there was a biology department kegger that I was missing out on, I do so enjoy the random office kegger (Not there are many office keggers here at the university. Actually I don't think that there have been any campus-supported office type keggers to my knowledge. Supposedly the Christmas parties here in the department used to get a little rowdy back in the day, but these days it's pretty hum-drum normal stuff.) Then I thought that maybe I had a brain tumor. That maybe that worm in my head wasn't really a worm but a slow growing brain tumor affecting the speech recognition part of my brain, which happens to be in Broca's area, frontal lobe and such. I decided that was unlikely. Then I thought...

Am I drunk?

I don't remember drinking anything this morning.

Maybe my apple juice has fermented?

But it tasted okay...

Internal dialogues aside I then correctly asserted that it was my phone. Actually it was a co-worker who pointed that out to me. I had quietly questioned if I was being left out of some amazing biology department bender, and amongst the cackling that ensued it came to be that this department is waaaaaaay to stodgy to have any kind of fun, much less organize benders. That kind of fun is reserved for departments that are creative and encourage their employees to express themselves freely and openly. Granted the dress code here has become rather lax, but I suppose the department still isn't that fun. Our definition of fun is ordering from Olive Garden for the beginning of the school year faculty/staff meeting and going around the room sharing what everyone did that summer. Even though it is obvious that no one really cares.

And now I really hate listening to my voicemail because it just reminds me that I'm at work. When I could, or should really, be at the pool polishing off a cocktail, or several. I can't figure out how to get it back to normal speed and my luck is that I will push the wrong button and then everyone will sound like Alvin from The Chipmunks. I can only imagine what I'll think then.