The Office Gypsy
I’ve finally settled in to my new office at work. I’ve set out my family pictures and my dying lucky bamboo.
I often find myself gazing longingly out my NEW HUGE WINDOW.
I can’t tell you what a difference the natural light makes after being in a windowless office with the ambience of a broom closet. I can tell you if it’s hazy, sunny, cloudy, partly cloudy, partly sunny, hailing, raining cats and dogs, drizzling rain, or spitting snow. Want to e-mail me and ask me what the weather’s like? Go ahead!
This is the sixth office I’ve occupied at my company in six years. Granted my entire company moved from another building about three years ago and there were at least three departmental moves this most recent round, but I am hoping this office “sticks.” Through the years at the other two companies I worked for I experienced the full monty of workplace setups: the shared cubicle where I literally rubbed elbows with my office mate and heard all her “business,” the private cubicle where I could kick off my shoes in peace, a private office without a window, and a shared office without a window.
I’m definitely staking out my new office because not only do I have a window, but I am now directly across from the kitchen slash break room, which, as we all know, is the hub of workplace action. I can keep tabs on the days bagels are brought in to celebrate a big sale, the all-important coffee supply, the people who never put their dirty coffee mug in the dishwasher, and the People magazine stash. I think I’ll sprinkle some extra bagel crumbs into the crevices of my keyboard to stake my claim.
I’ve already managed to insert my foot in my mouth by talking about how much I love having a window to one of my co-workers who reminded me that she works in a cubicle. (I’m in good company, though, with the FIMD.)
Come to think of it, maybe I need to bring bagels for everyone tomorrow before a secret plot to move me to the mail room starts brewing. Of course a situation like this may call for Krispy Kreme extra glazed.
