My office recently relocated floors in our building.
My office is now sharing an office with another office.
I am now breathing the same, reconditioned air as ten other people within five square meters and I tell you – it’s not doing my face any favours. I look like the loose ends of a hobo’s ass.
What I discovered on the sticky floor and damaged walls of my new office:
- Some lovely used cotton buds, complete with gooey yellow ear wax.
- A few toothpicks fashioned from paper clips and match sticks.
- A line of industrious worker ants, chipping away at food scraps that have fallen from the mouths of chimpanzees.
- Curtains that have been used as napkins and handkerchiefs.
- Windows that haven’t seen a splash of Windex or even the moist breath of an honest soul.
- The salty taste of vindictiveness in the air.
- Moult from a shape-shifting opportunist.
- and Bible quotes glued to the wall.
I miss my quiet office, with nary a light-fingered soul to be seen for miles.
I miss being surrounded by smaller amounts of bullshit.
I miss the promise of not being interrupted every 10 mins for a new toilet roll or a tin of milk powder because the milk powder given just yesterday was consumed by the milk powder gremlin.
I miss walking in to my office at my optimal performance time of 9am-ish instead of the 9am time the attendance book monitor expects of me.
I miss staring out the window, deep in thought about what I want for lunch, instead of staring out the window, deep in thought about the exact number of bones I would break if I leapt out the window.
I’ve resorted to streaming classical music to relax.
Okay, here’s hoping next week doesn’t turn me in to a raging tyrant.