A corner office

Thanks to office politics (two supervisors who both want an office), boss edicts (supervisors should be out on the floor with the office staff), and manager preferences (for the smaller of our two offices), on Friday I moved from my cubicle into the large corner office at work. I now have two windows that give me a lovely view of the parking lot—it’s a one-story building—and the strange people that pass by.

I like to refer to this scenario as the “split baby” outcome of King Solomon.

My first job was to clean out all the crap that had been left behind by the previous occupant. That included:

  • Four Ikea-branded loops of metal (later determined to be bookends that need to be screwed into the desk)
  • Two three-inch-thick books of US Zip Codes from 1996
  • A black box marked “Recognition” containing feminine hygiene products and an untouched New York Times crossword book

My new office has no real storage, outside of an endless sea of desk (upon which my tiny computer is now adrift) and two little office drawer/filing cabinets. One of the two cabinets was locked, however, with the key long gone. This inspired my first foray into the dark arts… and in under ten minutes, including tool creation time, I had access to my full storage space. The contents of the locked drawer?

  • The cash box that’s been missing for the last year
  • A large quantity of gold stars (used to thank and/or recognize staff)

I’m torn by this move, to be honest. The tiny amount of socialization I got in my old spot is now gone, as is the occasional serendipity of my overhearing people talking about something that I broke and/or can help with. On the other hand, closing a door when I need to think will be nice… as will knowing what season it is (or what the weather is!) when I’ve been working all day.

 

2 Responses to A corner office

 
  1. GreyDuck

    Oooh, I think you win!

    I’ve had my own office for almost ten solid years. But its only window faces the hallway. Since the other window options would be “parking lot,” “busy street,” and “homeless village between us and the 7-11,” I suppose I should be grateful…

  2. Brent

    Ten years of having an office, eh? I’ve been in a cubicle farm (with walls of varying permanence) since I started working in high school, so this is novel.

    I actually have an internal window, too… I just didn’t even think to consider it, for whatever reason. One coworker has started making a habit of cupping her face and peering through that window at me–damn near gave me a heart attack the first time she did it.

 

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