My place in The Office
Inevitably in the US, and I’m sure it occurs with as much frequency in other countries, people want to know where you work. What do you do, how much do you get paid? Oh wow that’s very interesting.
Less well-discussed is whether or not you enjoy your work. The common thread is that people in the US aren’t supposed to enjoy work. We’re not supposed to like what we do, it can’t be fun. And if, by some sick twist of fate it does happen to be fun, we’re not supposed to admit it.
Even LESS well-discussed is what your workplace looks like. Which is what I’m going to do now.
This is my little hidey-hole. It’s tucked away in the corner of a large communal work area, a place where consultants and students sit and work behind me and to my left. Note the door to the right; its placement is not accidental.
My backpack and sunglasses rest on a portable 3-drawer locking file cabinet, but I don’t typically put things of importance inside because it’s really light and someone could walk out of the office with it. Now it just serves as a shelf. My lunchbox sits on the floor because there’s no room on the shelf. You can’t see my umbrella, though.
On the desk are my tools of the trade: headphones, coffee mug, notepads, and photographic reminder of why I work. Dual monitors for a Windows machine, keyboard and optical mouse, and telephone are used less-often (I’m a State worker, after all). A mirror, to see who is behind me.
I have two calendars, one given by the university, another purchased personally. Mine has a wolf on it. The shelf above me holds meaningless materials, spare parts, and school newspapers full of coupons.
Back to the door. It leads to the snack room, refrigerator, and coffee machine.
The Silicon Valley poster on the door is horribly out of the date. Someone made little post-it stickers with “GONE” written on them, and now it is a daily puzzle-solving activity to try and find out which businesses are no longer in business.
You would think that with the amount of traffic in and out of the snack area, or community printer, that I would be constantly bothered. However, note that the door is open, it is continually left open, and if you reference its position relative to my workstation, you will notice that it helps to cover my back and secrete me away from the hustle and bustle. Yea, often the secretaries forget I’m at work and don’t bring me my paychecks.
Despite the non-usage of my file cabinet, I am not without storage. To my left, past an empty station, is my overhead compartment.
A closed version is to the left; it’s not mine. The computers below aren’t mine, either, because their main purpose is to collect dust. Truly an aspiration for all State employees.
Inside my storage bin are books I no longer read, a box of envelopes I hardly need, a multitude of pens, rulers, and office supplies I never use, and some business cards I don’t hand out. I also have a few paper plates for the occasional snack, and a glass plate for re-usability. Whatever else is in there, I probably put in a couple of years ago and never touched again.
Back to work, I guess.



