I couldn’t find my letter opener at work. A box of mine was also missing, so I suspected that later in the day I would be hit in the head with the box and then stabbed with my own letter opener. I sit with my back to a high traffic area on my floor. It could have been anyone.

Later, I found my letter opener by the letter generator (a machine that puts letters in the envelopes for us). I needed it the day before when I was agressively trying to fix a paper jam. No one was planning to kill me, but I’m still going to rearrange my desk so that I’m sitting on the first floor behind the security desk.