I sit here at my table in a corner of the conference room hearing sounds of hope - a drill, drilling holes and putting in screws for my new office furniture in my new office on the other side of the old floor. It has been over 8 weeks now that I've done the discombobulated work routine. This is how my day goes at work:
I login and someone comes by and says "oh, you ARE here today" in a lame attempt to make me feel guilty for working at home part time. I sort through the things on my table; some familiar, some not because others seem to ignore the fact that I have an inbox on a file cabinet nearby with a sign that says "Donna's In Box". It couldn't be more obvious. I send something to process or print on the big plotter and go check. The go check part becomes an adventure in itself. It is a maze through various cabinets and boxes and other evidence of office upheaval to the complete opposite end of the floor where the kitchen is like a rest stop on the way...where I pause to pick through the can of mixed nuts for cashews. Most times I encounter someone along the way where a conversation ensues about something. I happen by my future new office and watch, for a minute, the construction of desk parts. Someone else comes by and asks if I am excited to get a new office. We wander back to the kitchen where I check the mixed nuts again for more cashews, then back through the maze to my table in the conference room. I sit down and see the processing window still open and remember why I left the desk in the first place a 1/2 hour ago. I head back again, this time really, really focusing on what my errand is, with blinders on as I pass the kitchen.
This is how it goes at home:
Well let's just say there's lots of kitchen breaks, dog barking breaks and guess-it's-time-to-get-out-of-the-jammies breaks.
Soon, soon, I will get my brain back, some organization and routine, and my own chair.
"... And I said, I don't care if they lay me off either, because I told, I told Bill that if they move my desk one more time, then, then I'm, I'm quitting, I'm going to quit. And, and I told Don too, because they've moved my desk four times already this year, and I used to be over by the window, and I could see the squirrels, and they were married, but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn't bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and it's not okay because if they take my stapler then I'll set the building on fire ... Mr. Lumbergh told me to talk to payroll and then payroll told me to talk to Mr. Lumbergh and I still haven't received my paycheck and he took my stapler and he never brought it back and then they moved my desk to storage room B and there was garbage on it... "