I’ve been in a really strange mood all day. I think it started yesterday actually, in the two-hour staff meeting. Yep, two glorious hours locked in a room with seven managers, all of whom were wearing khaki-colored pants (one was even corduroy). Then, this morning when I pulled into the parking lot and parked in the space in front of another car I noticed the driver in the car in front of me was sitting there flossing her teeth in her rearview mirror. She’s kind a strange older lady: hair that is bleached too blond, too much black eyeliner. I think she’s going to show up in one of my novels.
I’ve been getting a couple of recent hires settled in, getting them set up with computers, phones, etc., so there’s been a steady stream of neediness from their manager who can never seem to understand THINGS TAKE TIME. Whatever.
Today it’s been non-stop neediness from my boss, who used to profess himself “self-sufficient” and liked to point out how he preferred to manage his own calendar, rather than let me do it. That all came to a screeching halt when I was forced to move down here to the other end of the building so he could keep his hold on his private conference room. Now everytime he needs a meeting set up I do it. This started today before I even had a chance to turn on my monitor when I arrived, just before 8:00 a.m. Good morning to you, too. And all the talk-talk-talk-talk-talk from him, and everyone around me. Seriously, people, STFU. Why is it people feel entitled to wander the aisles between the cubes, chattering away on their Bluetooth headsets? Go sit down in your cube and talk. OR go outside. Or get a conference room. Oh yeah, the birthday party in the common area the other day was a corker, I’m sure we all wanted to listen to that. Right outside my cube is an ‘open’ area where some damn fool put a table, and that got used to hold the birthday cake, where the rest of the birthday boy’s department gathered around to sing “Happy Birthday.”
I hate cube life.