Condon Goes Top Shelf

As a cost-savings measure, our office is currently embarking on a massive initiative to standardize all the office furniture in the region. That way, no one employee can claim a wicked sweet desk as their own, and insist that it comes with them anytime they switch locations. By everyone having identical semi-wicked sweet systems furniture desks, moving offices will become as simple as putting your junk in a box and self-carrying. Actually, not a bad idea.

So with two more offices undergoing the great furniture transformation today, a host of old non-standard furniture now litters our corridors. Those who seem concerned with random stuff blocking fire exit passages are looking to convince others to take it into their office. As an office-dweller that still rocks the wicked sweet old stuff, I’m a target the size of well…Target.

“Hey, would you be interested in a bigger bookshelf?”

I didn’t even have to look out my door towards the bookshelf my colleague was referencing – my answer was already set in stone. It could have been gold plated and filled with cans of vanilla frosting, and I’d still turn the thing down. Why? Because I’m trying to get into shape for softball season, and the gold would clash with the door handles. But also (and more relevantly), I really don’t need a bigger bookshelf. To paraphrase Wayne Campbell,

“I don’t have a book, let alone many books, to necessitate a bookshelf.”

Yes, it’s true. In the world of financial accounting, there’s not much need for bound literature. Perhaps if I were a lawyer, or medical research assistant, or say, middle school librarian, I could totally use a bigger bookshelf. But right now in my office, my stacks of volumes consist of a solitary item: Financial Management: Theory and Practice.

And that was an accident.

Yeah, it’s not that I reference my grad school Finance text on a daily basis, but instead, left it in a cabinet when I needed to clean out my school bag about a year ago. So when the smaller bookshelf was bestowed upon me a month ago, I figured I might as well put it up for all to see. Joining it on the top shelf is about four binders, a few training manuals, and a space where I often put my lunch. The other three shelves are empty.

The new model which I am currently being offered for a low, low price is a mighty five shelves. One could make the argument that I could take that first shelf and just transfer the existing contents of my current shelf over. Fine. But then what am I supposed to do with the other four?

What I am Supposed to Do with the Other Four

Shelf 1 – Awards – Most prestigious business people have an ego wall, where diplomas, certificates, and photos with famous people go. Well, my diploma frames are too big, my National Latin Exam Perfect Score certificate is just fine in Medford, and Russell Crowe didn’t ask for a Kodak Moment. So that leaves me with a fantasy football trophy (which Jon owes me), a medal from Wildcat Relays, and that Oscar I swiped from Helen Mirren while she downed a burger.

Shelf 2 – Books – Yeah, I’ve got plenty of books at home, and I can show of my intellectual prowess with the best of them. I think I’d have to go with all my books from GW (including those stupid softcover international eds. I bought from eBay), all the “So You’re Going to Be a Daddy” books I’ve read, and those battered Michael Crichton novels from when I was 13 that seem to have survived ever move I’ve ever made. God, Sphere ruled.

Shelf 3 – Random Things – Something on this shelf would have to be a conversation starter. Or when I refuse to discuss such matters under a shroud of secrecy, they should make my co-workers wonder as to their importance. In reality, these will be completely random things that I have selected from my home. This list isn’t finalized, but I think I’m going to bring in a DVD of Ghostbusters II, some tarragon, our Dustbuster, rollerblades, and a spatula.

Yeah, that’ll screw with ‘em.

Shelf 4 – The Intern.