Please God, Don't Let Me Die HereStories like this make me want to put down the computer and go knock on my neighbor's door. Rebecca Wells, a risk management professional, died on Friday as she worked. Tragically, no one even noticed until Saturday.
Not surprisingly, Wells was described (by a co-worker) as someone who was "always working." Also not surprisingly, that's the only quote about the 51-year-old Los Angeles County woman. If you didn't notice someone died in your office, you probably didn't notice when she was alive.
In addition to this not being the way I would want to go, I can't help but think someone -- anyone -- would notice I wasn't breathing. Also, this makes me hate cubicles even more. The illusion of privacy, without affording you actual privacy. Unless, you know, you DIE on a Friday right before happy hour.
Dying in a cubicle could only be a better way to go than the following: dying in a terrorist attack, death by torture, dying in a brothel (well, I suppose that depends), dying after getting your arm pinned in between two rocks, dying from a chimp attack.
There's just something defeating about a cubicle being the last place on earth you see and experience. It strikes me as an incredibly lonely way to go. A cubicle. By yourself. I hope Wells had plenty of friends and family who were frantically looking for her, and just happened to not check at the office. I hope.
How sad is this?
Image via dan4th/Flickr
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