A New Cubicle Journey Begins

It's a new era in the wacky world of cubicle confessions. I find myself again in a new cube with new fluorescents bronzing my pale Cincinnati skin and new (dare I say) synergies breezing in and out of the catacombs of the cubicle maze. However, this time something is different.

This new journey has me contemplating the uncertainties of my future career. Once again an intern, I have to work even harder to prove that I am as valuable as I think I am. It's humbling.

On a positive note, the aesthetics of my cube are almost endearing. On my first day of work I was greeted by a friendly pot of foe-orchids and several Microsoft Paint print-outs reading "Welcome Lauren!" It was a a real treat. A week later, my cube now contains a box of particularly soft tissues, a oddly placed roll of paper towels (which I have not touched for fear of where they came from), and an Associated Press Stylebook that I have been drooling over for the past two days. I "borrowed" this from the administrative assistant who sits by the CEO.

I am excited to begin my literally journey again and can't wait to see what happens in the next 11 weeks of my internship.

Tootles.

LA

Confessions from a... paint can?

Indeed, it is quite the adventure working at a start up company. My cubicle has been abandoned. Yes, abandoned. I have been outcast to every nook and cranny of the greater Cincinnati area and it has turned out to be quite the wild ride. Monday I worked at a coffee shop in Mason, Tuesday I worked in the corner of a quaint Mexican restaurant, Wednesday we found WiFi at Penera Bread, and both Thursday and Friday I worked in the sanctity of my own home.

Being a rouge drifter has its perks. The constant change up always keeps things fresh, and you get the privilege of coming up with clever excuses to explain to your conference call attendees why their is a mariachi band playing in the back ground ("Oh, that music? That's just the office next door.").

The photo featured above is an iphone snap shot of me working in an unfinished office. My legs (off screen) are resting on a paint can, and you see the windows and door lying on the floor behind me. You have to be creative, flexible, and above all, positive to be a drifter like me. You start to appreciate the little things, like electric outlets, and public restrooms. But above all, the spontenaity keeps you light on your feet and ready for battle. Multi-tasking has a whole new meaning, and I confess from my (not-so-cubicle-like) cubicle, that I am enjoying my life on the road.

Stay tuned for next weeks adventures... they are certainly bound to be grand.

My selection of cubicle views

I've received an overwhelming response from Confessions from a Cubicle lovers eager to show off their own cubicle views. I must admit, I was a little surprised to see that the world of cubicles is much more diverse than I have ever known. Some people have beautiful cityscape views, other cubicle dwellers can almost see a window, and still others get creative with what they've got. It turns out the world isn't three blank burlap walls and a windowless hole afteral.

I have selected three of my favorite views to share with the world and am excited for the next round to come pouring in.

DING! DING! DING! This view takes the cake. It seems that sharing the cubicle maze with your fellow co-workers comes with a few perks. This view can't be real. It seems like it might be more of a distraction than anything else.

My guess is that the person sitting in this city scape perch might look out their window and ponder the happenings of the world below, rather than staying focused on their task at hand. This view can't be all its cracked up to be.



This next cubicle view is something of a tease. My keen eye can spot that almost-perfect view in the distance complete with sunshine and a gorgeous white oak or two. It looks like this cubicle dweller got jipped out of the window seat on the plane. At least there is room for a good brain storm session on the plush couches and vision boards that line wall.






My final selection came from a friend is San Fransisco. It seems with a little creativity his feelings for his cubicle home added to the chi of this glowing cube. It doesn't look like he wins the killer view contest, but I give him props for effort.







Thanks to all the submissions! If your photo wasn't chosen, please wait until your next promotion and resubmit your view.

The watering hole...

Do you ever consider the interactions that take place in or around the office water cooler? Its a marvel. Somehow every time I get up to get a drink of water, or a sip of coffee by the nearby coffee stand, some guy realizes that he's thirsty as well and comes over to join. Its an awkward place. Its a place like no other. Its a place where meaningless conversation, and mindless banter occurs, all for the sake of...simply taking place. Its an excuse to get up and stretch and a place to tell inside jokes or quote favorite movies. Its a place to reminisce about the days activities and gossip about your fellow cubicle dwellers. Its a place to release emotion, sadness, and joy. Its a place that cannot be replaced, and shouldn't.

But, does the water cooler increase production or slow it down? Does it help morale and serve as a refresher for your employees? I appreciate my water cooler and wouldn't change it for a thing.

The watering hole...excuse me, the water cooler, somewhat resembles your local bar - cozy, comfortable, and a lot of small talk.

Check out my watering hole, and send me pics of yours.

The view from atop!

Hello down there! ... I said HELLOOO DOWN THERE!

Phew! I assume you can't here that. Unless your hearing is unconventionally keen, it would be difficult, when standing on the ground, to hear me greet you with salutations from my lofty view here in my new cube. After relocating several times and finally arriving at a cozy cube by a window overlooking a pond and a mulberry tree. Everyday I fixate on birds of all species, colors and sizes. This week a scruffy Robin perched on a branch near the window and cleaned himself. It was one of the oddest things i've ever seen. This dirty little robin was scratching his head with his claw. It took him ten minuets to do it and I watched him the whole time...like a creeper.

This brings me to my main point. Maybe it is better for efficiency and workflow to put your employees in a cube facing a wall, much like my old cube. However, I am indeed much happier with my pleasant view and the work that I do gets done with a smile on my face and is completed with better quality.

So, I ask you: Do you think its better to have happy employees who get less work done but do it better because they are more relaxed and happier? Or do you think its better to have a somber employee without a view that gets more work done, but the quality is lacking?

See my view in the photo above. And Goooooooodddd byeeeee! (but you probably didn't hear that either)

From cubicle to shining cubicle!

I've made myself comfortable in a new cube. I had to pack up my picture frames, my ethnic tissue box, scenic calender, and my tac-board and relocate to a new company with a new cube and a new chair. Its a 21 century cube, smaller, retro with modern colors, and complete with a Herman Miller air-on desk chair.

It was a fascinating experience, moving to my new home. I had to adjust to the modern theme, the new smell, and the new atmosphere with new people. I have a window, rather I HAD a window. I was relocated thrice and ended up in the windowless cube in the corner. But, the caramel colored walls will substitute for now.

The main difference is the noise. There are lots of cubes, and lots of people. And, I must try to convey my thoughts to you through the chatter of salesmen answering phones, mothers talking about their daughters boyfriends, and the managers trying to make sure their people aren't saying anything to customers that might hurt the business.

I sit here both in bliss and sadness. I am gleeful of the change and interested to see what life will be like in my 21st century cube, and I am saddened to leave the old cube behind and the memories and countless blogs that took place there.

When it rains... the cubicle gets wet

It is indeed an unfortunate moment when you walk into your cube Wednesday morning, excited to embrace another day, and you step in a puddle. A puddle? Yes, it seems that thunderstorms not only bring lightning and hail, but they also bring with them a furry of rain that can penetrate even the strongest cubicle walls, and do it with malice.

Three cubes down from mine, Dave's cube, got a good two inches of water sitting in and around his office chair, the power cords, and the most humorous piece of equipment with googly eyes taped on the side ( i wish I could explain this piece better, but you will just have to imagine).

Instead of bringing in a fan to start blowing on the water logged carpet, they are brainstorming what to do. I didn't need someone to tell me what to do before I jumped into action. I made my way to the bathroom for some towels to provide my little cube with an immediate solution. However, it seems as if we are out of paper towels so I was able to suffice with an entire roll of toilet paper that I brought back to the cube with me.

Toilet paper in hand, I got down on my knees to assess the situation at a more intimate distance. As I discovered, little damage had been done, and my quick thinking saved a few office products from getting splashed by the angry flood.

My toilet paper was not as successful as I would have hoped. In fact, residue from the one-ply Charmin is still stuck to parts of the carpet, but most of the water is gone.

Unfortunately, Dave's cube was the hardest hit and he was forced to evacuate and seek shelter in a cube on higher ground.

I'd love to hear some solutions that I could pass on to Dave as he struggles to get by in his unfamiliar cube. I'd like to help him assimilate back into his cube as soon as possible. It seems the thunderstorm, and trailing water damage has, (pardon the pun) dampened his spirit.

A Tragedy of Growing Old

One of the great tragediennes of growing older is that you must give up some things that keep you quite comfortable and safe. For instance, your crib keeps you from falling out of bed while sleeping, the Binky keeps you from crying, and the sippy-cup, a friend of all clumsy hands and forgetful elbows keeps us from spilling our drinks - brilliant!

Some of us wish that we hadn't graduated so quickly from the safety of our sippy cups.

It was another Friday morning in the cube, the fluorescent lights were shining, the air conditioning was rustling through my hair, and the smell of fresh brewed coffee could be detected from my cube. I was quite complacent, until I went for the coffee pot. I'd spent a good 8 minuets grinding the Starbucks Italian Blend coffee beans and watching the liquid peculate in the jar. I poured an especially large portion and brought it back to the safety of my cube, much like the safety of my crib... the cubicle walls keep me from falling out of my cube when I'm sleeping. What?

As I was truly enjoying my cup-o-joe and studying the countries of Europe, I quickly reached for my cup and destroyed it! POW! I knocked it, with zero finesse, right into the keyboard, onto my lap, and soaked the mouse pad (which is sitting underneath my desk to dry out now). I stared for a few seconds at the coffee, my coffee, dripping and bumbling through the keys. It was gross. I mean really gross.

I jumped up quickly, tripping over the power cord, and stumbling into the hall. I had the attention of my co-workers at this point, especially because I am now running( and I do mean running) to get some paper towels from the bathroom, because the coffee, my delicious coffee, was soaking through my key board and ruining whatever components were in its path! Oi Vey!

I start wiping off the keyboard, which is still plugged in, and every time I ran the towel over the keys it obnoxiously went *ding*, *ding*, *ding*. Audible enough for my neighbors to hear. From whipping off random keys I sent an e-mail with a title "lhgfdgfdhgfk" and no content to one of my co-workers. It was also dripping on my foot and I happened to be wearing sandals.

It was a pathetic scence.

All of this could have been avoided if I wasn't so prideful and would just drink my coffee out of a sippy cup.

Baby in a Cube!

A fascinating thing happens when a co-worker has a baby. Its a wonderous time for cube dwellers, somthing strange starts to happen. You hear about the baby's progress, when its due, what color the bedroom they just painted is, the baby shower, the new crib, the car seat, the baby monitor, and the collection of names they've come up with, most of which sound absurd to you. When the baby finally arives, they have to bring it in to show off. Maybe its Mommy picking Daddy up for lunch and she just happens to come inside, baby in toat.

Today, someone came in to pick up a check and brought their baby with them. *Crash, Bang, Boom!* All productivity in the office came to a screetching halt. People get out of their desks and walk towards the baby. Some linger close by to get a peak, and others jump right in with their goo goo eyes, talking loudly into the baby's face and making strange noises.

It was amaing. Nothing could be done for the 25 minuets the baby was there. "He's so big!", and "look at those toes!", of course "he looks just like you", and "he is soooooo cute, I bet he's gonna be just like his Daddy someday." Its quite a show.

Then, after the baby leaves, the conversation begins. One of two things is discussed: 1. The Mom's suddenly yearn for another baby of their own, and reminice about their past, or 2. people talk about how ugly/cute the baby was and rehash everything over and over.

I just sat there, opened mouth, eyes afixed on the little one and the scence around me.

I couldn't believe what happened when the unfarmiliar makes its way into the cubicle maze. It's an upset of balance, and people shift into a new form.

I think its just incredible.

Of the Endangered Species List

I've got sticky mouse syndrome. My mouse refuses to budge. I shake it, I blow on the little ball, and I bang it against the desk, but the mouse still sticks. I know they sell wireless/balless mouces(mice?), but I don't have one. So, I have to suffice with what I've got, and that happens to be a mouse with its ball still in tact. She's an endangered species, and one of the least sought after items in an office. However, I continue to caress her and hope the cursor glides across the screen at the same time and, more importantly in the same direction, as my mouse.

I always wondered why they would make such a device, obviously technological advances in science have allowed us to operate a finger pad on our laptops and a balless mouse with a sensor, but I still wonder how long it will take until all offices rid their cubes of the very last mouse-with-ball.

It's clear that I am now the minority, most have switched over and are advancing in exponential ways. Will I be the last to own a ball mouse? If so, should I save this little guy as a collectors item, or throw it away in the trash?

During these frustrating times, I want to throw the sticky icky mouse in the dumpster along with various other office products.
Enjoy this little bit of technology. It's the Kiwi Mouse from New Zeland by Microsoft. I think its time I get one.


I hope that I've captured some unanimous frustrations. Do you still have a ball operated mouse? Or do I have a rare collectors item?

Birthday Bash

Cubicle birthdays can be a blast! I had a birthday last weekend and... no one even knew. It felt good to roam around the cube maze with my little secret. Yes, I had passed the day of my birth successfully without the office lighting up. When I say "lighting up" I do mean something very specific. It's the birthday tone, which takes place when everyone finds out it's your birthday.

Bob had a birthday last week and he had to take five Tylenol to get rid of his headache. All the back slaps and "over the hill" jokes, the prank birthday presents and the awkward non-prank presents, and the not-so-free free lunch you have to buy everyone to celebrate your special day. Bob had people stopping by his desk to ask his what he was doing to celebrate and what his wife had gotten him all day long. He practically got zero work done.

I sat across from his cube watching it all take place and relishing in the fact that it wouldn't happen to me on my birthday. Well, the birthday came and went, and here I am blogging about not having to deal with all the attention. Today was just another day, the invoices came and went, I've had to re-tac a view loose papers that fell on the ground, and I've responded promptly to my incoming e-mails. I'm just sitting here in peace. I'm sure Bob is off of his birthday high right now. That must stink.

I sure am glad I didn't have to deal with those old jokes...

A Cubicle Confession From the Heart

Typing an important document for the boss, I lean back to take a quick breather. I'd been working on this document for hours. After a quick break I sit back up and as my index finger heads towards the T key and my ring finger lands on the O key....*POP*! The screen goes black. My jaw opens slowly and I sit in my cubicle chair, staring at a black screen suspended in limbo. The power had turned off. My document...

After a quick investigation, I discovered the source of the short circuiting laptop - it was my power strip, and the villainous ease of my foot tapping off the power. I feel like a power strip should have some kind of security code you have to press before it allows you turn it off, kind of the like your cell phone, the security systems in your house, the pin number on your debit card, or the nuclear weapons silo in the dessert.

Well, it was one of those moments, where I am the only person to blame, but I want so badly to shift the blame on to something or someone else for ruining my project. My precious work was G.O.N.E! I shuffled to turn the power back on, this time using my hand to flip the switch and doing it with malice. The screen flickers back on and I check the auto save to see how much I had to back track. It turns out my little clumsy moment only cost me ten minuets of work or so.

I am feeling much better that I've caught up where I left off before the power loss. In an hour I was very close to being done. I review my work, decide its ready to go, slowly move my cursor over the save button (I'm moving it slowly for dramatic effect for my readers, I picture a slow motion moment happening here)... and *POP*!

I did it again! Somehow I managed to tap the little red light on the power strip and everything turns off. I forgot to mention last time that it wasn't just the computer that had turned off. I also had to reset the clock, reset the phone, and allow the printer to start back up. So, at this point, you can see I'm fed up with the power strip and my clumsy toes. I am almost ready to cry, when the boss walks by and asks for the document he'd been waiting on.

I had to explain why it wasn't ready. Folks, I wish you could understand the grief here. Many of you probably can. There is something in fabric of a day in the office, where something goes arey and all the processes that follow seem to malfunction.

Do you have a tragic office story of your own? I would, truly, love to hear them.

Cubicle Scum...

Have you ever cleaned out your cubicle and discovered a distributing amount of suspicious material? Let me clarify. I was cleaning out my cubicle, and under my phone, stuck beneath picture frames, and in between the keys in my keyboard there was gooey, crummy, sticky material with which I could not identify.

I know we all eat lunch at our desks to avoid the painful conversations of the break room. You know what I'm talking about? The awkward silences, the meaningless filler conversation, and the fake laughter about old jokes. So, some of us eat our desks. It doesn't mean we're not cool, we're simply enlightened. But, avoiding the break room banter has its downfalls. Eating at your desk produces some hazardous aftermath. It doesn't matter how clean I try to be, something always gets spilled. I clean up right away, don't get me wrong, but the mess is never fully gone. Something gets left behind, and that something is scary the buildup of cubicle scum.

Cubicle scum is naughty. Really, it is! It manages to hide for days, weeks, months, even years (depending on your cleaning habits) until discovered by a throughout clean. When I mean thorough I mean a complete overhaul, removing everything and giving it a good wipe-down.

I will touch on one last point, which happens to be the area most hit and hardest to clean by cubicle scum... the keyboard! Its as if all of a sudden you notice one day that there are crumbs and scum stuck in between every key, appearing over night! Unless you have some heavy duty air pressure, or are willing to remove each individual key, you have to deal with the the festering dirt so close to your fingers.

I am perplexed but found this interesting item that will pick up the dirt out of your keyboard by simply rolling around over your keys and applying pressure.

Any other ideas?

Pump, Stilettos, in the Cube

Stilettos in the cubicle. Whats the point?

The use of high heeled shoes at the work place, seems a bit ridiculous to me. Yet, I am wearing a pair of high heeled, pointy toed, black suede heels right now. I am one to admit that they are not comfortable, and yet I still rock them on a weekly basis.

I have to take my high heeled beauties off when I am sitting at my cube. They simply make my legs to long to fit under my cube desk. During the day, cubicle dwellers do what they can to stretch their legs and keep circulation going while sitting down. (See my blog on working out in the cubicle) What we ladies like to do (men you can comment, because I'm sure you do the same thing) is slip off our heels, and as an acquaintance of mine says, "Let the dog's breathe." Translation: air out those sweaty feet! Women, like me, stretch out our legs and rest them on the modem sitting on the ground. It is the perfect opportunity to stay fresh and comfortable in the cube while they are gently warmed by the modem beneath.

However, there is some strategy involved in keeping your footsy exposure to a minimum. It is important to keep your shoes lined up and close to your stretched out feet. If they are too far away and hard to slip on, when someone comes by your office you can't casually put them back on without them noticing and some embarrassment might ensue.

Sometimes your stilettos are too big, and might slip off accidentally. When they slip off they tumble to the side and are difficult to put back on. If you cross your legs and gravity takes it tole (as usual) the shoes is off. This is where is becomes to tricky to jump up and help send an urgent shipment, or quickly hop in on a conference call in your bosses office. Like me, I am often caught in a shoe crisis. The boss will call, or walk by, and all of a sudden my stiletto will be gone. A naked foot is an easy target for the wondering eye, and is often looked down upon by cubicle visitors.

If you have any tricks that might help ease this ongoing problem, please comment.

Scammed!

I just hung up on an important client. The office phone system can be quite the pickle sometimes. I put them on hold, I bring the person they are trying to reach up on the intercom, and if I am lucky I will transfer the call without hanging up on them. Oops.

Nine out of ten times, the transfer will go smoothly, but we all know that the one time I do mess up a call, it turns out to be someone important.

I enjoy the calls I get in a day. Interacting with someone else, somewhere else, with an entirely different life than mine. It is always a breath of fresh air, when I can speak to a real human being who is remotely happy about life. There are always stinkers who assume I have no feelings and have no consideration for me as a friendly cubicle dweller ready to talk.

It's easy to get used and abused on the phone. My favorite is when a telemarketer calls me and says that she is not trying to sell me anything. I give her about three seconds to talk then I say, "sweetheart, can you hold for a minuet, I have someone else on the line." Usually they don't hold, but for those who do, I give them a good eight minuets of waiting time. If they last that long, I pick back up the phone, tell them I forgot about them, and give them another five minuets to give me their speal.

Now, you have to be careful because some callers will manipulate you into agreeing to something phony. I did a little investigating into the telesales market to figure out what real profit they are making if everyone hangs up on them before they get a chance to talks.

The Federal Trade Commission said, "Telemarketing fraud is a multi-billion dollar business in the United States. Every year, thousands of consumers lose as little as a few dollars to as much as their life savings to telephone con artists."

The TFC says to be wary of people offering Medical Discounts, Foreign Lotteries, Travel Packages, Charities, and Investments. Which basically means, if you don't know the person, don't talk to them. Of course, I am too smart to fall into any of that kind of business...

Isn't that sad? What if someone really had something good to say?

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?