Door Slamma Jamma

Hey, remember this post from March 2005, where I extolled on my history of moving from cubicle to cubicle in my office setting? Of course you don’t. Cubicle Talk doesn’t exactly shout “Blockbuster Post Alert” to anyone. Especially if you’re at work and have your speakers turned down.

But nonetheless, it’s happened again. And this time, it’s permanent. The walls, that is.

Condon has an office.

That’s right. After three and a half years of being able to peer over my cubicular shelter to the outside world, my workspace is now officially bound by a window wall and three others constructed of plaster, drywall, and paint. I’ve even got a door that opens and closes, officially signifying when I am available and unavailable to talk. And just in case I’ve opted to keep that door shut, I have a glass floor-to-ceiling window pane that lets me people watch from within my new 11’ by 10’ square of privacy.

Yeah, life is pretty good.

But moving into an actual office isn’t all cheesecake and Gatorade, as you may believe. No, the moving from Cube 2374 all the way to Office 2376 has an equal share of Pros and Cons. And it here on YAB that were share them with you.

PRO: I am now about 10 meters closer to the kitchen, and therefore, the water fountain. Considering I refill my 1 Liter Nalgene bottle up about 6 times a day, this could save valuable, eh, minute in my day. (Apologies for two uses of the metric system in that Pro. I haven’t gone Frenchy on you all.)
CON: I am now about 10 meters farther away from the bathroom, which is an inevitable yang to the ying of downing 6 bottles of water. From this point on, conference calls will need to be better planned to compensate for the increase in distance.

PRO: I have walls now, which can hold lovely framing of whatever I please. After all, The old cube walls I had, while cloth, struggled to hold up even the lightest page of contacts or my 12-month calendar. And maybe I’ll even find a place for that boxed-up diploma, no?
CON: I have no problem putting a nail in my walls at home to hang a killer framed movie poster of The Sting, and yet, I feel guilty knocking a thumbtack into the wall at the office. Oh well, I guess I’ll never know any phone numbers or what day it is. I’ll guesstimate. TGIF.

PRO: You can’t see my legs now. In cube life, your back is either to your cube opening, or the desk behind which you sit does not have a front to it, exposing your lower half to the world. Which probably rules out those Bermuda shorts you’d love to wear at the office. And your Rollerblades, too. (NOTE: Rollerblades should only be used for sprints to the mail desk and the printer. Otherwise, your co-workers will wonder how you’ve suddenly become 6’8”.
CON: It’s just too damn tempting to pull a Constanza underneath this desk. In fact, I’ll be right back…

PRO: This office, since the walls remain largely barren, has a killer echo when I talk. Sure, it makes me sound more important, as my voice carries a greater gravitas and tone with it, but the real fun is in saying things that sound cool with an echo. Example: Standing up in my office and proclaiming: “I demand a cheese sandwich. NOW!”
CON: Forgetting to close the door before one demands a cheese sandwich.
PRO AGAIN: Unless, that is, some intern actual buckles like a belt and gets you that cheese sandwich.