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Thursday was a day like any other at the greenhouse, except for one thing: a refrigerator-size safe sitting on a pallet outside my office. That morning, someone from stores came by to size it up.

"Do you need any help?", I asked.

"No, I have to come back with a pallet jack, anyway," he replied

And indeed, a few hours later he returned with a pallet jack -- and his help. Specifically one of our higher-up Assistant Directing Head of Directors or some such thing. I can't even decipher some titles on our org chart, but the important thing is: his name is several pages above mine. The two of them fuss and budge around the safe for a few minutes, while a few ladies gather around the perimeter to watch the scene. MJ and I are watching, too, since it's right outside our office door, but we don't offer to help, since there's already a bit of an argument on "the best way to do this". From what I've learned moving heavy objects, most ways can be a good way, just as long as everyone's in agreement. So, I let them work things out.

Until, that is, when I notice that their strategy is going to pull the safe's edge right over a gap in the pallet. Just as I think, "Gee, that could be dangerous," the whole thing slips and lurches straight towards the ADHD, whose back is against the concrete wall. MJ and I both leap forward, and we actually help him catch the safe as it presses into his chest, and all the ladies gasp in concern. We get it righted, and then the four of us escort the safe to its new destination.

Later that afternoon, one of those ladies invites MJ and me into their office. Apparently, they brought in a cake to celebrate the new safe, and figured that we were entitled to a slice.

So, in summary: I saved someone in upper management from getting crushed by a safe, and was rewarded for it with a safecake party.

I love my job.