My office is being relocated across the street and up seven floors. Today we are supposed to have all of our files and stuff boxed up and ready for the good folks from Building Operations come and take them away as well as disassemble the desks, cubicles, and office equipment like the massive copier and color printer. As for getting any work done; well, that’s basically on hold until we settled in after the three-day weekend.
There are twelve people who occupy this space, and as highly-organized as we all are, it’s pretty interesting to see the various stages of progress we’ve been making since the announcement of the move. Some parts of the office look like Martha Stewart came by; everything has been labeled, boxes are stacked neatly, while others look like the bottom of a birdcage, gravel and all. Since men are in short supply in the office — just me and a new director now — there’s been the occasional request to lift or move a heavy box or cabinet. Fortunately I planned ahead and rented a hernia for the week (to go along with my cold), so I’ve been able to avoid that. Cleaning my area of seven years’ worth of stuff (not to mention the leftovers from the previous occupant) has been enough entertainment.
The new space is larger, but there are fewer private offices so people who used to have a space all to themselves will join the rest of us in the cube farm. It might take some getting used to, especially for those who are not used to keeping their voices down while they’re on the phone or those who use the speakerphone as a matter of course. There will also be some changes in furniture; I’m trading my present set-up with one of our administrative assistants who has coveted it, and I’m getting her larger sectional system that is the epitome of ’90’s style, complete with the smoky grey desktop.
It occurs to me that in the nearly thirty years that I’ve been working in one job or another, I’ve never had my own office space. I’ve always shared it with other people or been located in a common area like a showroom or a central office. It’s never bothered me; I get along pretty well with most people and my work habits are low-key enough that I don’t seem to bother other people. I make up for it by having a very nice space at home, though, that counts as my real office, complete with a big desk that isn’t attached to a wall or the desk of the person in the next cube.
Okay, anyone seen my scissors and roll of box tape?
(Photo from The Office.)