Fire drills

Although I work for the district attorney’s office rather than CPS, my office is at the CPS office rather than the DA’s office because it makes more practical sense for me to have easy access to my workers and for them to have easy access to me. Most days that is very convenient. Some days it is a pain in my neck because I get interrupted.

ALL. THE. TIME.

I’m not sure if adaptability is my greatest strength on the Clifton Strengths Finder because of this job, or if I do this job well because of that strength. In any case, it comes in handy.

Most days I don’t much mind the distraction of people popping in to see me. But there are days where my ability to people is limited, and it’s a struggle to summon the energy to not only be friendly but be helpful and even wise.

There are days that I have a lot to accomplish in a finite amount of time, and I am challenged to get that done with lots of interruptions because my personality type has difficulty focusing on specific tasks when there are other more immediate needs or distractions to focus on instead.

Today was a day of both limited peopling ability and need to accomplish a lot of things.

So, after a bit of a rough start to the day, I was finally able to really focus on things without interruption, and I settled into a rhythm where I was getting lots of things accomplished. And I was feeling good about things.

And then one of the facility guys walks down the hall and tells us that they are going to do a fire drill. And you can literally hear the groans echoing down the hall as the message spreads. Nobody was feeling the love of a fire drill this morning. People started to drift out of their offices and their cubicles and for a good 5 minutes, we all stood around complaining, and waiting, and figuring out where exactly the alarms were, to ensure that we weren’t  standing directly underneath one when it went off.

After a while, when nothing happened, people drift back to their workspaces and the office grew quite again, in only the way that an office normally filled with the laughter and voices of children can grow.

I got back to the work that I was doing, but with the constant thought of not wanting to start something that was going to be hard to get back into if interrupted.

Eventually, the alarms did go off, and even though we were expecting it, everyone jumped just a little. We grabbed our phones, some our purses, and headed out the back door. As we walked to the end of the parking lot, I thought to myself, hey at least the sun is shining and it’s warm. We joked about it being an office get together without the food.

And then, almost as soon as it began, we got the word that the office had been cleared and we were free to go back to work.

My immediate thought was, what? But it’s warm out here. And I’m out here with people that I actually really like but don’t get to spend time just talking with about things other than work. And it’s good to be on my feet instead of in my chair at my desk. Can’t we make this last just a bit longer?

We all headed back to our offices and, again, the office settled into that somewhat unnatural, childless, quiet.  We all got back to the tasks we were at before the interruption of the fire drill. 

And I thought to myself, how often do we let the prospect of some unexpected and unwanted interruption throw us off our routine, and out of our comfort zones, just to realize that not only was the interruption not as bad as we thought it would be, but was actually a nice break in the ordinary fabric of our days and our lives?

How often do we view those interruptions as inconveniences rather than blessings? What if, instead of focusing on the negative part of the experience, on the thoughts that we do not have the time, or the energy, or the attention, to have our routines interrupted, we think instead, what good could I pull out of this? How could I use this interruption to make a connection to someone I might not have otherwise made today? How can I enjoy this unexpected break in my day? How can I focus instead on the opportunity that this interruption provides: the ability to breathe in the fresh air for a moment; the chance, however brief, to feel the sun on my skin.

Maybe instead of seeing the burden, we should look for the blessing. In fire drills. In the needs of the people around us. In all the ways that our days are interrupted, disrupted, and otherwise stood on their heads. 

Because, sometimes, those interruptions that we resent the most? They become one of the brightest spots in our days. If we just learn to look at them with our hearts and minds open to the opportunity, rather than the inconvenience.