My office is closed the week of the 25th, which means I’ll be home while my parents are here without burning any vacation days. (Yay.)
As a result of the Democratic takeover of Congress, we’ll be moving offices. On the 26th. (Great.)
This isn’t such a big deal, as we don’t have to be present during the move. In theory, I can just leave the old office on the 22nd and show up at the new one on January 2nd. (Right.)
I’m spending this week packing up my office amidst constant badgering by my colleagues that I shouldn’t be lifting that binder and constant worry from my husband that I’m overdoing it.
I’ve been told to get the intern to box up my stuff, but I just can’t bring myself to ask him. First, I would feel like a total shithead doing that, and second, sometimes he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you know what I mean.
Our offices are currently tucked away in the basement and are not glamorous. Our windows look out into a concrete moat and we’ve got a great view of some pipes. I’ve got a pigeon nest outside my window, and despite multiple efforts to get rid of it, its inhabitants still festively decorate my pane with their own special flocking. Happy holidays to you, too, Pigeons!
But we’ve all got private offices.
I’ve heard multiple comments about how great it will be to move up out of the basement and into the “nice” offices. We’ll be close to the hearing room and have high ceilings and when we look out our windows, we’ll actually be able to see what the weather is doing. Everyone’s office will triple in size. But they will no longer be private.
Details have yet to be determined, but I’m going to have at least one office mate. Possibly four.
I’d like to think I’m not the kind of person who is shallow enough to care about office space. Who’s closer to the window, who’s got an extra five inches of space, who’s got a bigger desk? Who cares. As long as the work gets done, what does it matter?
Except I’m totally that shallow.
I’m really demoralized by the idea of moving from my cramped, dingy office (with a couch and an easy chair and a mini fridge and a door that closes) to a soaring space with lovely drapes and crown molding (where I can’t discreetly watch your YouTube video or scratch when it itches in an inconvenient place and I have to overhear my colleague tell the doctor that mystery rash is crusting over).
My big worry is that after my too-short maternity leave, I’ll need a place to pump. In my current office, I scrawled the words “Privacy Please” onto a post-it note and slapped it on the locked door. I’ll have to work out something else in the new space, which I hope does not include having to pump at the nurses’ station or in the bathroom.
I’m sure I’ll adjust, and everything will be fine, but right now this is just giving me something else to be cranky about. I haven’t decided what to do with my plants because I don’t know what my new office will look like. And what the hell am I going to do about my fish?*
*She’s a guppy. Her name is Stump. She lives in a one-gallon tank in my office. Should I trust the movers, or instruct them to leave her in place and come get her myself on the 2nd? What if the new inhabitant of my office holds her for ransom?
5 comments:
"the Democratic takeover of Congress..."
It's such a beautiful sound... isn't it?
I can relate to this. My "office" has moved three times in the last year, and each time my situation has gotten worse. Not bad, but more open and exposed. Better for "team" work, but much worse for peace, quiet and personal phone calls.
My husband thought my stress about moving each time was silly, then I reminded him that I spend more hours in my "office" than I do my own bed, and how would he like someone arbitrarily moving our bed around at whim, and then sticking us in a bedroom with three other couples?
I would take the fish home, or put him in an office that is not moving for safe-keeping. A bi-partisan (Fish) olive branch.
Oh, and what Kemp said. Yea!
I'm thinking if you just pump a couple of times in your new "office" they may hook you up with a private one after all.
What Sarah said.
Guppies are hardy, maybe she'll be just fine with the movers. Though now she'll die and it will be my fault. Nevermind, take her home or something.
Since the only time I ever had an office with a door I shared it with 3 other people, I am totally the kind of shallow person who thinks about space. As a federal, then state employee, I have never ever had an office, even a dingy basement one. I totally feel for you in the loss of that private space.
And re pumping - how insane is it that there is not a decent (door that locks, comfortable chair etc) place to pump in your building? Almost as insane as the fact that there was no such place in my office, which is the state dept that wrote the regulations that REQUIRE such a place exist in every state office building. Ahem. Not that I'm still annoyed about that, months past my last experience with office pumping.
On second thought, I say - pump in your office! That is a sure-fire way to get your office mate(s) to clear out, leaving you with at least a few minutes to scratch and surf the web.
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