Would you or wouldn't you? continued...

I already decided I would give my boss CPR and mouth to mouth, if required.

I put this same question to my boss. I think if he needed me to give him mouth to mouth or CPR, this would put me in a unique position. Not that I'd ever wish him harm, he's great, but well...I just wanted him to know, he could count on me. But since he'd be getting the breath of life from me, I wanted to know, if I was, say, choking on a piece of Godiva chocolate in the office or something...could I count on him to do the right thing? He said immediately, "Of course."...

which I then had to quantify with the condition that it had to be of medical necessity or something, not just for fun or whatever....he laughed and shook his head (oh as if I'M crazy or something...) I'm just getting organized, is all. Preparing for "whatever". I need to know who's in my corner.

I have earmarked John, the Zen Chinese project manager, in my office as someone who would get the breath of life from me. He's nice, vegetarian (no hocking up a cigarette pack sized piece of steak or anything) and is generally worth saving.

Mario, the new guy, sure, no problem. Nice guy, friendly, helpful, and a very tidy eater, so I'd get no unpleasant surprises there either.

Annie, of course, she's fun, totally necessary and would totally deserve CPR from me, although I'd worry about squashing her. She's tiny. ("Gee,Thanks for reviving me, and the broken ribs..")

Mr. G, my 70 something year old broker, definitely. He takes very good care of himself and is always threatening to commit suicide (kind of ironic, no?) I told him not to do it in the office and to lay down plastic if he really insists on taking his own life, as it's very inconsiderate to kill oneself and leave that kind of mess for others. He agreed.. I'd make sure I revived him, JUST so I could remind him. :)

Alan, the schnorrer, NO WAY. I'm writing "DNR" on his door. Alan would not lift a finger to help anyone, therefore no Breath of Life from me. I suggest he choke or faint on the first floor, because I won't even shove him down the stairs, much less attempt to save him. For what? Does this make me a bad person? I tell you what...I would call 9-1-1. I would get things out of the way so it would be easier for someone else to revive him. Probably John the Zen Chinese project manager would do it. He's nicer than I am. He's the one who got to tell Alan when he was walking around covered in his own excrement. (No lie. The guy managed to crap himself, all over the outside of his pants and on his back and belt. It looked like he'd been assaulted by a chocolate cupcake.)

Incidentally, speaking of all things excremental (always. It always comes back to poop.), Annie and I were lamenting the person who keeps leaving little shredded pieces of torn toilet paper in the bathroom for other people to pick up. I explained that when I sit down, I cleanly tear the paper, so I don't end up littering the floor with tissue scraps. She explained that BEFORE she sits down, she TEARS OFF WITH TWO HANDS, EXACTLY THE AMOUNT SHE'S GOING TO NEED!

How efficient! How organized. She has totally changed the way I use the facilities and now I think about her "system" everytime I'm in there. Nice to always know how much you're going to need. I'm not always so accurate...hahhaa. I know TMI.