Emergency

Sometimes, you're sitting at work, hating the unbeautiful meniality of some task but simultaneously enjoying re-listening to the diablo cody/ john cusak myspace artist-on-artist. Then you hear the south-pacific accented Voice of God come over the PA and warn you that the next annoying interruption to the day he just interrupted is going to be the emergency test sirens. Which then blare, despite the total lack of emergency.

As you sit there with the unheard dulcet tones of john cusack warming your earphones pointlessly under the blown-out hypersiren, you realise that maybe the universe was trying to tell you that the real emergency was the long silence that you'd maintained online since about 2004 when the most interesting thing you had to say was 'i'm so glad i'm not pregnant... again'.

And then just as you're feeling like maybe you achieved something today by having a virtual brain-vomit, the Voice of God announces that the emergency test is over, a good ten minutes after it actually was over.

I've never heard one of the security guys at the front desk actually use that accent anyway. I'm pretty sure one of them is an unemployed voice over artist who likes to spread his wings by making my ears bleed once every couple of weeks.