Today was Halloween at the office. There was a decorating contest between departments. All the departments were busy all week collecting their Halloween paraphernalia from home. (Yes, paraphernalia is spelled correctly. Who knew it had a “pher” in the middle.)
The place looked like a Halloween pinata exploded.
But then there was the Creative department. As of last night at 6 pm, there was nary a jack-o-lantern. Not one fake web. Not even a mini candy bar. We, the Creatives, reasoned to the rest of the agency that we blow our creative wad every day of the year. We’re tired. We’re over it. We’re not participating. Go ahead and win. We don’t care.
Red herring anyone?
Today when people walked through the Creative department, they found themselves in an episode of Dexter. We had a kill room, a murder scene, a Dexter walking around calmly and seriously wearing a rubber apron and carrying a knife, and blood splatter art work. The rest of us dressed up as detectives, FBI agents and policemen so the place looked like a police station.
It was awesome.
And we soooo won the contest.
This little Office Town I work in is usually on the receiving end of my angst and frustration with everything that is wrong in my world, but today it was fun.
It’s fun to win.
Even though I was lamenting dressing up at all, when I ignored that aspect of myself and pinned on my shiny police badge, my FBI badge and other policy paraPHERnalia, my inner child smiled.
And that made it all worth it.