Choose Your Own Adventure

I am totally bored and unsatisfied with my current state of affairs. I'm sure it’s due to the tantalizing excitement of my baby and move that both seem so close, yet so far. And the lack of good summer TV.

So in a rare hip-hop reference, I've decided to brush that dirt off my shoulders and set out for some fresh adventures of my very own. On the 15th floor of my office building.

My LA office building is a beautiful zen oasis complete with a domed pile of cobalt gravel and cocoa shells as mulch. The guard desk downstairs is always stocked with helium balloons. I believe this week we are celebrating Flag Day.

Our elevator bank is in a comforting NYC style, with discreet sections for floors 1-10 and 11-21. My office is on the 16th floor and our lunch room overlooks LAX and the ocean, so you can watch the planes as you enjoy your chicken vindaloo.* We also have mad snacks available at all times, including cheese. OK, I think I need a cheese break now.

Yum. Cheese break.

To access my office is fairly simple, provided you arrive during business hours. Off hours require a badge swipe. I think this is a reasonable level of security. The folks on the 15th floor, however, disagree.

Something on the 15th floor is so top-secret, so death-defying, that you can't even access the elevator without swiping your badge. The 15th floor also requires a constant influx of likely IT drones toting bags of McDonald's in and out at all hours. There is a definite morning and night shift. They do not speak in the elevator - even when they travel in packs. The 15th floor has an air of mystery, and an air of paranoia as I ponder what I am sitting on top of day in and day out.

What is going on down there?

It is my desperate hope that they are working on the next Twitter or some other harmless project, and that their funding is tied to an impossibly condensed timeframe that necessitates the 24/7 attention. But I fear it may be something far more sinister.

The 15th floor could be the Dollhouse or the Company or Massive Dynamic’s LA branch. But with less telegenic help. I sure as hell hope so. Because I need something cool to happen to kill some time over the next 2 and a half months.

* Of the 60 people in my office, about 40 are Indian and here on work visas. Lunch time is an olfactory delight of curries and rices. It’s a good thing that my naturally hyper-sensitive snout did not go into overdrive during pregnancy and that I love Indian food – unlike CinS who likens it to “chicken soup that fell on the carpet.”