The Value of a Post-it

Good morning reader(s)!

I had to make a sticky note to remember to blog this morning. I had to write another sticky note to remember to call back a customer today, and as I look around my vibrant cube, I see two dozen sticky notes to remind me to do various tasks, remember various passwords, and sticky notes with arrows pointing to the most important sticky notes.

I am a little disturbed at how quickly we go through sticky notes. Those poor little guys have a shelf life of 24 hours at the max and get thrown away right after they serve their purpose.

I walked into my bosses office today and saw sticky notes overlapping sticky notes. Half of the notes couldn't be read and had clearly outlived their 24 hour shelf life. I saw notes with sketches on them and some with what looked like code scribbled with colorful pens.

I came in this morning and there were two sticky notes on my computer screen from co-workers who stayed longer than I had yesterday. You have to stick them in the most obvious places, you see - places like on your computer screen, or on the numbers on the telephone. I always appreciate when people get creative with where they stick their post-it notes. They are always in places where you are forced to see them. Once I found a sticky note under the lid of the toilet seat saying "Please hold down handle when flushing". Of course there is always a sticky note in places that need special attention, like the sticky note in our fridge reminding us to take our leftovers home, and the sticky note by the light switch that says "we love the earth, turn off the light!"

Sticky notes are an easy way for people to avoid confrontation and often a nice outlet for frustration. The post-it serves its purpose, helping to make our work day just a little easier.

The Unspoken Rules of the Office Refrigerator

Who moved my cheese? Seriously, who moved my cheese?

I headed to the refrigerator for my lunch yesterday, opened the door, and scanned the shelves for my Havarti cheese to put on my sandwich. You see, the office refrigerator is a scary place. It's shelves are lined with Slimfast shakes, Danactive yogurt, fiber rich chocolate bars, leftover skyline, diet sodas, and other questionable items.

There are unspoken rules to the office refrigerator. Everyone assigns themselves a spot where they always put their own food. Some people put their initials on their food, but most just throw their viddles in with confidence, knowing everyone will follow the unspoken guidlines.

Sometimes a fed up office worker will open the stuffed fridge and throw a verbal tantrum. "This has been in here for weeks, " she'll say, "Who in their right mind would need three bottles of Ketchup?" And eventually she"ll walk around the office with bags of leftovers in her hand and ask everyone if it is theirs and if they could please throw it away.

Every once in a while you'll have someone break the rules, someone who knows the rules exist and just doesn't care. That person will root through the refrigerator and look for leftovers without initials on them. Then he will eat whatever he can find and claim that it was his and, if someone complains he will say that they should have put their name on it.

There is also another breed of refrigerator goers. This is the person who brings snacks in everyday and puts them in the fridge just in case she wants a snack for later. Everyday a snack is added, but rarely consumed. Its a form of self control, I think. This person is proud when they don't eat the snack because they always need to watch their weight and one day they will go to the fridge and say, "Oh, I guess I have a few snacks in here. I better eat these or bring them home." Then, anyone who is near, rolls their eyes and whispers that maybe that person shouldn't bring in so many snacks or they aren't going to fit through the door and maybe they could save some room in the fridge for everyone else.

Today I walked to the fridge, sifted through half-eaten salads and old chili, and continued to search for my Havarti cheese. It was no where to be found. I assume that the grouchy lady threw it away or the greedy guy took it for his meal, or the snack lady used it as a nice side dish for her snack tray.

I guess I will never know what happened to my cheese, but I don't think the rules have been followed today.

Summer in a cubicle.

There may be just one downfall to a life spent surrounded by the gray mazes of the cubicle populous. I think about how wonderful it is to have such a cozy cubby of my own, tucked away amongst a community of like cubicle dwellers. I often try to imagine the misery of working in a stuffy office with a door, but my daydreaming always turns into a nightmare. Yes, I love my little niche.

However, one day as I was feeling sorry for all those men and woman stuck in their closed off spaces, I noticed a beam of natural light peeking out from under a closed office door (of course I was standing up to stretch, because I am hidden behind a cubicle divider). The natural light sucked me in. Before I knew it, I had been staring at its glittering luminosity, dancing shadows under the crack of the door for what seemed like minuets. I thought to myself, "My it would be nice to feel the presence of the only thing better than the glow of my fluorescent lights - the sun!"

At that moment, I raced to weather.com and realized that it was in fact, summer! I hadn't realized that amidst my temperature regulated cube, which conveniently keeps me from overheating at a steady temperature of 62 degrees Celsius, I was unaware of the warmth outside these walls. Sure, when I leave work and walk outside the office I have to take off my coat and scarf (literally), but I thought it was some strange heat wave. In fact, it had been summer the whole month and I hadn't even noticed.

Now, I sometimes think about the warmth and what it might feel like to work outside, maybe delivering packages, or trimming the lawn. But then I remember my cube, and how consistent it is. I don't have to worry about the breeze fluttering around my PO's and Invoices.

True Confessions

I often wonder what goes on behind closed doors in the office. For instance, what are people doing when no one is watching? It's quite comical to envision a big CEO picking his nose, or flexing in the reflection in the window.

I confess, I have one or two quirks of my own. Before I tell you what I do, I want to put a disclaimer here saying that I am not some kind of freak. Something just happens when you know no one is watching - no matter how sane you may be. Ok, well... when I get in the office in the morning and no on is in, the lights are off. I turn on the first light switch and watch the fluorescent lights flicker on in succession of one another. Then, I walk to another set of light switch panels. (This is where is starts to get weird, so if you plan on judging me, please stop reading now.) When I get to the light switch, I look around the room just in case someone had stayed the night in their cube. My head turns to the front door to make sure no one is walking in behind me, and I clear my throat. "Chhhh, Huston?" I say, "Huston are you there? We're all ready to go", and my throat gurgles like a fuzzy transmission. And then, I slowly flick on the light switches, one after another counting down as I go. "Three...two... one...". Then, as if nothing had happened, I sit in my cubicle.

I don't know what happens to me in those moments when no on is watching, but I know that I am caught up in a different reality, as if I was a kid again. I don't know why it happens, but every morning its the same thing. It's an escape from reality, maybe something that happens more often than not.

So i wonder. How often does this stuff happen and never gets noticed? And, what would happen if we had no conscience to stop us from following through with the urges that arise during the day?

All I know is that that small moment in the morning is the best part of my day.

Fax this e-mail?!

Let's discuss a major issue today. It's something that has been weighing down on my heart for quite a while now. This is a daily office routine that occurs in nearly every office around the globe. It's outdated. It's inconvenient. It's terrible time consuming. And, above all, it is the most frustrating activity in an office. It's... the fax machine!

When I'm talking to a customer and I hear, "just fax it over" or "did you get that fax that I sent over? I'm not sure if it got to you", my blood starts to curdle, my palms sweat, my brow narrows, and I am completely consumed with frustration. Why the fax? Can someone explain to me the benefit and value of writing a cover page, printing out the cover page, trying to fax multiple documents, calling the person after you fax the documents, then waiting to make sure no error occurs (which it usually does!).

The worst, and I do meant the worst, was when my boss came by my office and asked me to "fax this e-mail." I looked at him and just stared, trying not to fume from my ears. I think you can see the absurdity here. I suppose it's just funny.

Didn't we invent e-mail to solve such primitive delemas? What ever happened to digittally scanning documnets then putting them on an FTP site or sending via that beautiful thing we call e-mail?

I deem this technology outdated. We just have to convince people its value is no longer worth while.

What do you think?

"lol" in the cubicle.

I often find myself laughing out loud in my cubicle. I'm certain I look ridiculous, but sometimes I just can't help but to burst out in a quite audible laugh, all to familiar to friends and family. This laugh can resonate. This laugh can shatter a wine glass. And, this laugh can draw attention from across the room. It's not something I'm necessarily proud of, and quite frankly its a nuisance during the work day when I'm trying to get some work done.

I'll open a forwarded message from a friend with a link to a silly youtube video, and... KABOOM! - out comes my laugh. It's like vomit, you just can't help but let it out. So, what do I do in these moments you ask?

Well, this is something I like to call the "muffler". I name these special tricks, you see. I'd like to think that someday when I have a whole slue of 'em I can compile my cubicle tips into a bestselling must-have classic.

The "muffler" can only be used when you know a laugh is coming. You have to prepare yourself when opening a funny photo of an lol cat, or a video sent to you by your wacky friend in Boston about a freak-of-nature-animal doing a trick. (see video clip below)

When you are about to open up this file/link, bite into an apple, stuff a rolled up pair of gloves, or a hunk of clean tissues into your mouth. Be sure to breathe slowly out of your nose - as I have once hyperventilated in this process. The hunk-o-junk in your gabber stops any embarrassing noise from coming out and disrupting the work flow, all the while you are viewing the special treat sent to you by a buddy.

Please enjoy this special treat I received during work. It's the perfect chance to test out the "muffler".

ENJOY! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLdQ3UhLoD4

TGIF? What the F!

TGIF? Who thought it was OK to make an acronym out of anticipation of the end of a work week? I try to hold off on the cynicism, but I swear, if I hear that expression one more time, I'm going TGIF some but...maybe.

Lets talk about Fridays at the workplace. Other than the dreaded expression, what happened to people wearing jeans on Fridays? And why Friday? Why not Tuesdays or Wednesdays? Isn't it a little ridiculous to celebrate the last day of the work week? I mean, come on! Aren't we just happy that we have a job and we can support ourselves or our family's? Everyday should be a celebration.

Its pretty sad that people hate their jobs so much that all they can do is say TGIF, and count down the clock until its time to leave, where they promptly run out the door, jump in that car, and race home. And what are people racing home for anyway? To sit on the couch and watch TV? To play with their model airplane collections?

If you have any ideas on how to make our Fridays more jovial and exciting please comment!

Raw, untapped human emotion.

Emotion in the cubicle.
Do you ever wonder what happens when, in the estimated 13,517,000 people who work in a cubicle in America, someone experiences some kind of extreme emotion such as rage, utter-sadness, extreme joy, or depressing self-pity? I only pose this question because just moments ago I experienced some emotion of my own, which was stimulated by a heart-warming YouTube video about a unlikely woman who was able to shine through adversity. In my moment of joyful tears, I experienced a duel emotion, coicididng with my joy. The emotoin was embarrassment. I though to myself; what would I have done if my boss would have walked by my desk and seen me with tears running down my cheeks at 8:00 O'clock in the morning? Explain that one, Lauren.

Now, think about the other thirteen million cubicle workers out there. Everyone experiences some extreme emotion at one point in their life as a cubicle dweller. A cube is a vulnurable place, with three five-foot high walls, and no place to be alone or fall away from the subjectivity of the cube. Why do you suppose the bathroom was rated the best place to dissapear to in the office? Four walls and a door are hard to combat.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not supporting the office door. I love the fresh air I get in my cube, but what if happens if you get an e-mail that your great aunt Mabel just passed away and you are immediatly consumed with grief. You have to get up and walk past any number of cubicles while tears stream down you cheeks and for the next week and a half you are the gossip of the whole work place. And what if you just discover that your spouse is cheating on you? Complete rage, right? How are you supposed to cope while your mind is consumed with unquestionable, raw, human emotion?

Until the brainiacs at MIT commercialize the personal human teleporting device so we can literally dissapear when we encounter an uncontrollable emotion, we must find a way to cope.

I propose cubicle workers be allowed a certain number of breaks throughout the year that go unquestioned. Say that your best friend dies from suicide and you don't want to publicize this embarrassing tradgety, all you have to do is leave, deem it your "i-get-to-leave-without-a-single-question-asked-once-a-year pass. You can just leave.

I don't know if I would have waisted my pass on my little moment this morning, but maybe you would have: Watch this little clip that had me sobbing like a child in my cube. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

Live, love, laugh, cry, beat up your neighbor!

Heres to you Susan Boyle...

Do you ever ask yourself, how much real work do you get done in an eight hour work day? Really. What do you think most people would say? Five, three, maybe even two full, genuine hours in a day?
If you break it all down, and really start to analyze what people are doing, your results might be disturbing news to most people.

I got home from my cube yesterday - and yes, I do have a life outside my cube - and thought "what an exhausting day. I worked nine hours!" Someone asked me what I did, and I honestly couldn't think of one thing that I had accomplished, aside from consuming two cups of joe.

I wanted to break down (not necessarily applicable to me) of what I think happens in a full work day.

A day in the life of a cube:

8:00am - turn on computers, plug in power cords, pull up e-mail and other programs used daily
8:20am - rearrange desk to make sure all supplies are accounted for, cleaned, and organized.
8:35am - get coffee
8:37am - Blog *smiles*
[say hello to co-workers as needed]
9:32am - Download new pod casts, check the weather, skim through local news
[answering phones as necessary]
10:09am - go through e-mails, respond, follow-through with appropriate tasks
10:57am - say hello to UPS guy, sign for packages,
11:03am - Real work begins
11:56am - End real work, decide where to go for lunch
12:05pm - Go to lunch
12:37pm - come back from lunch, use restroom
12:42pm - Stretch
1:03pm - Begin Real work
1:25pm - end real work, watch screen saver
1:47pm - bathroom
1:52pm - use label maker to make labels for files and my name combined with the last name of hunky movie stars. i.e. "Lauren Clooney", "Lauren Pitt", "Lauren Obama" etc.
2:35pm - wave at boss and work some more and work again
3:10pm - End work, rearrange cubicle
3:35pm - Surf the web for funny cat jokes
4:05pm - Work again
4:45pm - End work, and start cleaning up, unplugging stuff, closing out of windows, turning off stuff
4:55pm - sit in cube until its time to leave
5:00pm - Leave cube

Now, I obviously exaggerate a bit to make a point, but its interesting to seriously consider how much real work is done during the work day. In my example, only two and a half hours of real work done.

I, of course, am an exception to this work day anomoly, seeing as I work at least seven hours each day.

If you are outraged at this discovery, please write.

Suffering in silence?

Well, well, well... we meet again.

One of the perks of working in a cubicle is that we are not confined. The lucky cubicle dwellers, such as myself, are subject to the open air, a fresh breeze, the constant din of the office, and of course we have the privilege of easy communication with the other cubicles in our network. It's so simple; if I lose my pencil I can just call out, "Aw, shucks, I lost my pencil." Like clockwork, a dozen hands will crest above the cubicle maze, and walah! - the cubicle is your oyster!

It's beautiful to be a part of such a close knit community, a group of people so willing to help out in a time of need. And, with no limits to communication among group members, conversation, and company are in no short supply.

However, this brilliant circuit of cubicle dwellers have to face some adversity too. For instance: you may ask yourself what happens when two people are on the phone at the same time? Wouldn't it be difficult to know if you are being talked to by your cubicle buddy, or just eaves dropping on an important conference call?

Well, I'm glad you asked. Because, quite frankly, I've unintentionally eaves dropped on many conversations, daily. I know Robert doesn't wear the color blue because his ex-wife bought him a blue vest the day she took off with their Hispanic gardener, Manual. I know Marge was born with six fingers, and every time she goes to shake someones hand, she thinks they're looking at her hand-scar. I know that Greg watches YouTube videos during work of cats doing silly things because he genuinely missed his cat while he's not home. I know Missy listens to Oprah on pod casts. I think you get the picture.

The worst is when the person beside me is talking on the phone at the same time as I am. We end up trying to compete with each other, desperately trying to listen to what the person we are trying to talk to is saying, while tuning out the cubicle talker next door. It ends up being a boxing match of sorts. The workers ( or audience) in cubes close to us, trying not to listen to what the two people on the phone are saying, and the manager (referee) making sure to walk by and stop at each of our cubes to gesture with his finger in front is lips that we need to talk softer. And finally, the two competing (boxers) to talk loud enough so their client can hear what their saying. We usually end up turning away from the noise, our backs to whatever direction the other guy is located. We are constantly getting tangled in the damn phone cord. Its a bloody brawl which ends in both boxers irrationally resenting each other, as if it was their fault that a customer called at the same time.

Which, by the way, who invented the blasted phone cord? Right? I just looked over at mine and its a mangled mess. I am constantly grabbing the cord and letting the phone helplessly unwind as I stand up tall enough so the phone has enough space to completely untwist without hitting the ground. Sometimes I'm standing up with my arm as high in the air (over the cubicle) as I can get it and the phone still hits the floor *thud, thud, thud*, while other cubicle sympathetics watch in silence as they can completely feel my pain. This may be one of the offices biggest downfalls.

It's a different world, here in our little community. Isolation and absurd bonding make for a cult like atmosphere. And phone cords, knotted up in sticky platic blobs, have us picking and unwinding, uncoiling and cursing throughout the day.

Wronged by another cubicle.

To my faithful blog reader: I thank you for your devotion and your willingness to comment on my little memoirs.

Let me begin, my dear friends, with a little pet peeve of mine. As I attempt to encode my thoughts into words for you to read and decode, I realize that what I am about to say might be written out of angst or out of some deep and rooted anger, released by the monday morning grog and the flickering of my favorite fluorescent friend. However, I am willing to release my frustrations through this blog post and ultimately for the entertainment of my four followers.

As I walked to my cube this morning, I passed several other cubes. Walking past one cube in particular I was stopped by its absurdity. This cube was obnoxiously overcrowded. Every patch of the burlap wall was completed covered in crayon colored construction paper, little finger-painted Christmas presents, clippings from the comic section of cartoons with jokes about working in a cubicle, a calender of puppies wearing funny costumes relevant to each month, and even the Princess Diana commemorative TY beanie baby from the 90's pined by the arm and placed next to a small gold framed picture of Diana with the words "Never Forgotten". The worst was a poster of two angels luminously floating in the clouds with the makes-me-want-to-throw-up-non-inspirational inspirational quote written in bold font saying, "Shoot for the moon, even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."

Oh.My.God.

What makes this scene even worse is that, despite being surrounded by all that adorable crap, the cubicle dweller is probably miserable, trying to cover up their misery with precious moments dolls and pictures of cuddly penguins and non-inspirational inspirational quotes.

Now, I don't give a crap who you are or what you do. Live and let live, baby! Heck, you can worship a two headed sheep if you want, that's your prerogative. I just don't want to walk past your office and get stopped by Big Mouth Billy Bass singing Take Me To The River by Al Green every time I have to go to the restroom. And, I sure as heck don't want feel how realistic your sleeping kitty in a basket feels - I know it's made from real rabbit fur!

There is nothing that peeves me more than the gauty, obnoxiously crowded, overstuffed, cluttered cubicle.

I need it simple - a photo of the family, a stapler, maybe even a pencil or two, but NO BEANY BABYS! And, absolutely no scenic calenders or inspirational quotes. There is no need to make yourself more miserable, people! It's like, "Hey! I'm still cool, I have beany babys, and I love to look at scenes of mountains that I will never visit because I don't even know where they are and I can't get out of the office because I love my dog calender so much!" Blah.

Per this post, I have decided that I am going for obnoxious. I plan on decorating for the holidays, bringing in my Christmas lights and talking Santa for Christmas, and because Memorial Day is coming up, I plan in lining my cubicle with flags and memorabilia from the Dollar Store. All shame aside; It's war.

Here are some overstuffed cubicles, for your enjoyment:

Disgusting.













Pathetic.


















Just plain WRONG.

"The Ol' Bait and Switch"

This morning I'd like to showcase a piece of equipment that, to say it lightly, has saved my life and countless other lives in cubicles across the globe. Tight budgets, and grumpy financial officers strained with the pressures of a growing recession, has left cubicle dwellers like me to marinate in one of the offices unfavorable attributes: no heat. However, thanks to the ingenuity and clever thinking of Thomas Edison, I no longer have to suffer in silence, wearing my mittens and a winter coat in my cubicle. Because of sweet Thomas's invention, I can work efficiently and fill out Purchase Orders with unimaginable speed while answering the phones with a friendly and personal attitude. And, because of Eddies invention of the... electric heater I can reside in comfort in my little cube.

So here is a great tip for all you chilly cubicle guys and gals, for aquiring a space heater of your own without stealing or buying one. Yes, I believe so strongly that my "Warm Fusion 2000 Spce Heater" will improve your attitude, productivity, and your over all outlook on life.

Now, what I would suggest is for the more adventurous, spunky guy or gal. This is a little trick I like to call the " ol' bait and switch". This highly effective method of attaining a space heater from an unsuspected (very warm) cubicle neighbor, requires some skills with the oven (just basic knowlege: how to turn on the oven, open the oven, and use a timer) and the purchase of slice and bake cookies. Because it's Easter time, I sugguest the cookies with the little bunnies and colorful easter eggs on them - its more personal. Take your homemade cookies into work, set them on the desk of the space-heater-unsuspecting-cubicle-dwelling-warm-guy and say "Oh, I just had some extra cookies, and I know how much you like them, so I thought I would just bring them in [insert your most heartwarming smile here] enjoy!" At this point it is VITAL that you "notice" their space heater. Comment on how warm it looks. Ask them if they like it. Tell them you've been so cold lately. Ask them again if they ever use it. Compiliment them. Walk away.

At this point you've "baited" them with the three C's: cookies, compliments, and charisma. Now, you sit and wait (in the cold). After you are sure that at least three of your cookies have been consumed, exclaim loud enough for your target to hear you, "Burr! I just can't seem to get warm!" And, like magic, you've "hooked" them. They will feel a sense of obligation to you, an irrational responsibility to give you something back for you what you have given them. In this case, its cookies for a space heater. Within minuets, the heater will be yours. The suffering will end, and you will experience a deep satisfaction, unmatched by the feeling you would recieve if you had purchased a heater of your own.

For more advice on how to obtain things for free from people in the office, stay tuned.

Effects of My Daily Poison.

It is, in fact, an interesting anomaly that seems to go unquestioned in America. It is the countries addiction to coffee that has me blogging today. And on this particular day, under the pleasant glow of flickering fluorescent lights and tack-less cubicle walls, I seem to be in some mild form of comma. I didn't get my coffee today.

I can't help but wonder why we cubicle dwellers, the protectors of our tiny realms, insist on drinking that daily cup of poison. And I can't help but wonder why its effects go seemingly unquestioned. I am certain that the withdraw symptoms are worse than driving when your tired or while talking on your cell phone. I might even go so far as to say that the lethargic effects of coffee withdraw may be worse than drinking and driving. I know its a far stretch, but be bold my friends!

According to the experts at coffeefaq.com, "Often, people who are reducing caffeine intake report being irritable, unable to work, nervous, restless, and feeling sleepy, as well as having a headache. In extreme cases, nausea and vomiting has also been reported." Wow! Fourtunatly my symptoms are not quite as extreme, however, its seems to me that any product that deems you "unable to work" is a drug. So, I ask again; Why is coffee a staple to two-thirds of the worlds population, and why do half the adults in america drink it everyday (www.diabetes.org)?

For me, it's the smooth, sometimes creamy, satisfying aroma, and the satisfying feeling that it leaves for me. It's the consistancy and the relyability of the pick-me-up boost it provides. I don't want to discourage anyone from this delectable morning ritual, I just want to make you aware of the enormous effect that coffee has on America.

Alright... let's cut the crap. The truth is that I just don't know how to make the coffee, and the cubicle dweller that usually does it, isn't in. I walked over to the coffee station and stared at the empty pot for, literaly, two minuets.

Someone, help?

Get that six-pack you've always dreamed of!

I'm back in my favorite little cubby. And, if I stand up and look over top of a row of cubicles, squint real hard through the doorway of my bosses office and out his window, I can see the that it is simply a beautiful day outside. Yes, everything is going my way.

Yesterday I found myself getting a little stiff after a few consecutive hours of sitting in my cozy desk chair in my cubicle. The more I thought about the mild discomfort I was experiencing, the more I wanted to get up and run around the office. Unfourtunatly, my darling little cubicle is about six inches shorter than I am, so if I chose to stand and strecth, my head pops up over the top and everyone can see me(and believe me they will look -anything out of the ordinary around here gets imedate attention from the attention straved cubicle faithfuls at the office).

At this point im craving for a few chin-ups maybe a pinwheel or two. Here is my question for you today: What are we cubicle goers supposed to do when we get leg cramps or need a little circulation, even a mini massage?

Here are some simple solutions that I have both applied and am willing to recomend for those of you who are weary of running in and out of the cubicle maze for a little movement:

1. Do like I do, every thirty minuets or so, (make sure no one is walking by) THE SQUAT! This one is very simple. Because I'm faced with the dificulty of height, I have to take extra caution not to stand up to high. Swing your chair around so you have easy access to some cubicle space, then get in the squat position and clentch those gluets. And, Perfecto - buns of steel!

2. I am particurally proud of this one... the cubicle push up. However this is one of the hardest to accomplish. Wait until one of your cubicle neighors goes to the bathroom and get into the pushup position in your cubicle. Don't worry if you're too tall, like me, to fit everything in the cubicle at once. Allow your feet and the majority of your body to remain in the cube, while your head is acts like the perfect lookout for possible passers. Do ten or so every hour.

3. And finally, my proudest excersize: This requires a little space and strength and is best exicuted when your recepticle is full. Take your trashcan and scoot your office chair back against the wall. Remain seated, but use the full trashcan as a weight. Lift over your head and to your left and right. Be sure to keep the trash recepticle within the confines of the cube and no one will know you've just completed your full body, cubile workout!


If this is too intimidating for you, here are some alternative products that help you stay toned and, combined with the exposure you get from the flourescent lights, bronzed!

The Gadget: The GZ PC-Sport Power Stepper from Gamercize claims to give desktop and laptop users a workout by hijacking their keyboard or mouse when they slack off on their workouts.
The Price: $199 for the GZ PC-Sport + Power Stepper / around $140 for the GZ PC-Sport alone.






Why buy an expensive home gym when you can get a cheaper, gimmicky full-body workout from the comfort of your desk at work? Grab a Springflex UB that attaches easily to your desktop and target your upper body with over 120 exercises, and then hit the lower body with the Gamercize Power Stepper for your PC.

At only $89.95 for the Springflex and around £99.90 or $200 for the Power Stepper, this combo is certainly a cheaper alternative to most home gym systems —but if you want to actually get in shape, it may be worth the extra cash and get something that isn't completely ridiculous.



As you begin to test out my workout plan, send me feedback. I'd love to hear your stories.

Keep on-a-movin'!

Who's laughing now?

Well, it's another morning in cubicle paradise. Although it's still early, I've run into a bit of trouble at this hour. I have a question for you, and maybe you can reply with some sort of solution. I am fascinated by the standard simple sleek design of an office cubicle - the battleship gray shelf that I can conveniently place my stackable letter trays for memos, and the built in file cabinet that so perfectly matches the shelf and the fasteners that hold this oasis together. And, lets not forget the mighty walls themselves, each identically clad with a light gray burlap fabric which adds to the ascetics of my home away from home.

Now, here is where we run into a bit of trouble. Those fantastically starched burlap fabric walls, lead unsuspecting cubicle regulars to believe that these walls are the ideal texture and material to insert one of the offices favorite friends: The Tac. Let me tell you, and possibly paint a more vivid visual image of the frustrations that we cubicle lovers like to call "The Deceit".

As I began to reorganize my new cubicle last week, I wanted to surround myself with photos, colorful brochures of our competitors to inspire me, and agendas with names and numbers of key people i may need to contact. I saw that most of my office supplies were already sitting on my desk, including a vibrant box of tacs. There were tacs of different colors and shapes which drew me in immediately (I'm one of those girls who is attracted to shiny things), so I quickly grabbed my favorite color and a photo of my Grandma Helen and tried to shove my tac through it at a key spot on the cubicle wall. I got it through, stepped back, and watched it fall to the ground. Fail. I tried again at a different section of my cubicle. Fail. I tried again and again with different patches of burlap and different colors of tacs, thinking there must be some defect. To no avail, I was tricked by "The Deceit", scammed by the laughing cubicle designers who are probably sitting in cubicles of their own - happy and sticking tacs into their tac-friendly cubicle walls.

Fortunately, I love the burlap, and I don't want to hide nor cover it up with some silly family photo. I would like to think I got the last laugh. Those cubicle designers set out to make us miserable. Little do they know how much I enjoy this, as Dilbert would say, "Tiny Realm" tucked away in the peaceful corner of our building. Tacs or not, I will not be shaken.

**If you have any suggestions for my tac-filled dilemma, please send them my way.

AND ENJOY THE PAC-MAN GAME I ADDED FOR ALL YOU READERS. Think of it as me giving back to you.

Who needs the tropics? I have my cubicle.

Oh, hello!

It's my second week working in a cubicle. Its seems that after lasts weeks exposure to the fluorescent lights above me, I have acquired a bit of a tan. I thought to myself: Should I be applying a decent layer of SPF before I come into work? And, if so, all you ladies out there may want to consider canceling your membership to Sunny Buns Tanning.

Although I may be a bit dramatic, I wanted to do a little investigating into the issue because, truthfully, my skin is still as white as it was in the January 3rd blizzard. However, I still would like to see what the effects of sitting under a flickering ultraviolet light will do to me over an extended period of time, so I searched the World Wide Web and came up with these disturbing facts:

1. “Fluorescent lights are certainly troublesome for some form of migraine and epilepsy. (The fluorescent light frequencys) aggravate brain waves, causing a photic response in the EEG (Electroencephalography). Photic stimulation was one of the ways to elicit the migraine response, or even cause an epileptic fit.”
www.hsibaltimore.com (Health Scientists Institute)

Cubicle: Now I understand that it may be easy to get an occasional headache from some high frequency light waves, maybe even a seizure of two, but I for one am not impressed, I need more evidence that my eight hour work day isn't being interrupted by the violation of my seasonal tanning schedule.

2. According to California Assembly Bill 1109 (2007) Section (e): “…Most fluorescent lighting products contain hazardous levels of mercury. Most incandescent lighting products contain hazardous levels of lead.
(www.newswithviews.com)

Cubicle: Alright, hazardous materials are one thing but I can't help but be skeptical when I hear the Green Thumbs in California whining about another ecologically friendly-gotta-go-green-must-save-the-environment-ice-caps-are-melting-nit-picky problem. I mean, come on tree huggers, what's wrong with a little mercury? So, I kept on searching.

3. Fluorescent, neon and halogen lights emit small amounts of UVR. These lights can be fitted with a filter or diffuser that absorbs the UVR. Although the amount of UVR emitted by fluorescent lights is small – 8 hours of exposure is equivalent to less than 5 minutes in the sub-tropics – it is important to remember that UVR’s effect on the skin is cumulative ie the sum of the minutes is important not just the number of minutes at each time. Cumulative UVR causes premature aging and skin cancer.
(http://www.sickamongthepure.net/uvradiation/fluorescent.html)

Cubicle: Now we're getting somewhere. After some serious searching, the experts have spoken. In my cubicle, in a fourty hour work week, I am being exposed to almost half an hour of harmful UV rays to my skin. It works out to be 1200 minuets of solid exposure time each year. I guess I don't need to go to Tahiti to get that tan after all.

Until next time...