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!