In the event that this was a real disaster, please schedule me a deposition in the suburbs…and run screaming from the building

The powers that operate the skyscraper my office is in just let us know that we can expect a disaster drill to occur shortly. They won’t provide the precise time, but they gave us a general range of when to expect the unorganized chaos that is sure to occur to actually occur.

I was here last year when this happened. But I didn’t get the warning. Nor did I care to leave. One of my partners and I just continued to chug through our various tasks that day while the alarm klaxons were sounding: “Was impending death about to snatch us from this life and into the next? Who cares! We have discovery to finish!!!” [This may have led to a mental image of firefighters pulling my charred body from the remains while cradling a stack of privileged documents…]

Thus, this is what we have to look forward in the next week. The issue for me is it is the only day that I have no court, no depositions, no meetings…I have nothing but a day for office work planned. Knowing that I will likely be here for this fun festival is not exactly something I consider to be happy news. I like getting to my office, doing as much work as possible during my usual office hours, and then making a beeline for the nearest alcohol provider, golf course or warm bed. I’ve asked my supervising partner if there is any way that I can be out of the office during the time. He responded with its just one of those things that we have to accept. And wear earplugs.

I’m spending the remainder of the day to find out if there is a wall, with paint drying, that is available for a deposition. Though, it is looking like I will be forced to grin and bear it as all of the secretaries, paralegals and clerks dutifully evacuate the premises.