Chalk Outlines

More times than not, your favorite daily cirque de blogeil is written from the comfy confines of Cubicule 2373 in the McLean Towers. Let me try and describe what my little work world looks like on a normal day. And then I will go on to describe why today is anything but.

I have to admit, cube life isn't so bad, mainly because no two perceptions of cube life are the same. I can think of very specific varieties of cubes that I would want to be nowhere near. Such designs include 1) only three walls, with the fourth wall being a grand entrance for anyone to walk right on in; 2) walls that only come up to my waist, so that everyone can see everybody and it feels like you're being stalked; or 3) cubes made of uninviting, unforgiving metal siding, where you might as well be working in a garage. (Of course, that means I could exchange my highlighters for lawn tools, and that may make for a more interesting day...hmm...may have to look into that...)

What I do have, in my opinion, is the best cube you can have this side of Rubix. First off, I have four walls. The fourth wall, the one that faces out, only has a three foot opening, so that I can enjoy some privacy and not have people walk by, see what I'm doing, and then spill their coffee on the patch of hallway carpet I lay claim to. My two side walls are flanked by other cubes, and the fourth is the exterior building wall, which is nicely accessorized with six foot high wall-to-wall window. Secondly, these walls are tall. At least taller than me by a few inches, I don't have to worry about those weird people (McAleer?) staring at the back of my head. (Unless of course, we hire this guy.) Finally, the walls are made of a nice cloth exterior, which muffles the sound of throwing my rubber stress ball against the wall. (That is, if I actually, well did that, um, nevermind.)

It's all that I can ask for from a normal cube. Unfortunately, Normal just took the off-ramp, and now I'm being tailgated by Ridiculous.

You see, this morning started at about as normal as it can be. Got up, took a shower, got dressed, made lunch, packed my things, went to work, got to work, sat down, thought about what to blog about. This is everyday stuff people, nothing unusual. Then UNICCO showed up.

UNICCO is the company that supplies our building engineers (and many of my daily finance-related headaches). Two such engineers walked by my cube to go nextdoor to Carla's (my neighbor.) Well, it appears that during our last rainstorm, Carla's cube sprung a leak. The portion of ceiling right by the window had cracked, and needed repairs. (This is not an unfamiliar process for me. We have a similar situation in our bathroom.) However, when the problem is amended at home, the maintenance guy comes when we're not home, kind of fixes it, leaves some of his tools and leaves. I'm never around for it. This time, as I sit in my cubicle, I had front-row seats. It's a pretty complicated process, as it turns out, but for the point I'm trying to make, we need only deal with Step 1.

Step 1: Sand down the ceiling.

Knowing the simple premise of gravity, the engineers knew to put down a plastic sheet directly below the to-be-sanded ceiling, as well as some of Carla's nearby belongings. Now knowing the simple premise of air flow, the engineers did not think that the paint particles being sanded off the ceiling may not fall directly towards the earth, but rather be caught up in any current in the air that may pass through Carla's office. And I thought that dust cloud emanating from her cube would have been a clue.

When it was all said and done, the engineers had fixed the leak and repainted the ceiling. They also took their Dry-Vac and picked up much of the particles that had spread themselves around Carla's cube. Like the Cat in the Hat, everything was done professionally and quickly, and everything was in its place by the time Carla got into the office. I could say job well done...

...but why does MY cube look like a nuclear test site?

Enough of the paint dust made its way over here into 2373 to blanket everything I have out with a lovely film of white. (If this was a snowfall, I'm sure DC would cancel school for the winter.) Everything I have, from papers to my keyboard to my phone now looks like somebody's about to dust for fingerprints. My hair is now a distinguished gray, I'm sure, and I'm kicking myself for wearing a blue shirt today instead of a white. Paper feels weird to touch, but how do you wash paper to make it clean without getting it wet?!? What's more, any outgoing mail today will be received with great suspicion, since all I have has an unidentifiable white powder coating it. Like I said, Ridiculous is right behind me, honking his horn and flashing his lights. It's going to be a long day.

*cough*