Last Monday I moved into my seventh cube since I started my job two and a half years ago. This means that I have only spent, on average, 4.57 months per desk. I was contemplating just keeping all of my stuff in boxes, in order to make it easier to move each time but that would be depressing. Anyway, I like to feel moved into my desks. I always have my drawer full of food, and my Bronwen pictures placed so that I can look at her smiling face all day. I have “my stapler” and “my tape dispenser” and I take those with me from desk to desk. I recently bought a lamp at target and it makes whatever desk I am sitting at much homier.
Part of my job right now is writing the six non-perishable department manuals and so I had to move a whole shopping cart (of course we have shopping carts in our office) of drafts of manuals that are in various stages of editing. So, instead of being able to use this move to pare down and reorganize, I have simply dumped my cart load onto half of the desk and have gotten down to work. I am pretty sure that my neighbor eyes my messy desk with suspicion. Am I going to be the neighbor whose desk always sports a moldy old cup of coffee with floating green, a shriveling and unidentifiable citrus fruit and a crumb strewn floor mat with matching crumby chair crunching all over the place? Yes, I am that neighbor. At least I am not falling asleep at my desk anymore; snoring all over the place and keeping everyone on constant alert to wake me up before the boss-man come around the corner. Well, at least not most of the time.
Part of my job right now is writing the six non-perishable department manuals and so I had to move a whole shopping cart (of course we have shopping carts in our office) of drafts of manuals that are in various stages of editing. So, instead of being able to use this move to pare down and reorganize, I have simply dumped my cart load onto half of the desk and have gotten down to work. I am pretty sure that my neighbor eyes my messy desk with suspicion. Am I going to be the neighbor whose desk always sports a moldy old cup of coffee with floating green, a shriveling and unidentifiable citrus fruit and a crumb strewn floor mat with matching crumby chair crunching all over the place? Yes, I am that neighbor. At least I am not falling asleep at my desk anymore; snoring all over the place and keeping everyone on constant alert to wake me up before the boss-man come around the corner. Well, at least not most of the time.