In case you were not aware, I started a new job this past Monday. It’s pretty exciting, especially because I’ve been given a real office with real windows and a real door. My employer has not yet realized that my level of qualification hardly warrants a desk with four legs, let alone a private room of my very own.
When I first saw my office, I was delighted by the idea of privacy and personal space. I thought surely it would be an entirely different experience from my previous life in Cubicleville, one filled with leisurely personal phone calls, endless naps on my desk, and constant urges to reconfigure my corporate feng shui. It did not occur to me that my office comes with a door that, when ajar, allows people to see me. (And there went my order for a waterbed.)
In the past four days, I have been caught doing the following things by people walking past my office:
1. Eating a banana that was so old it required a spoon.
2. Stretching dramatically.
3. Smelling my highlighter.
4. Picking my teeth while staring into a compact mirror.
5. Photographing my office with my cameraphone.
6. Standing in front of my window and staring longingly at the street below.
7. Reapplying concealer.
8. Eating soup out of a coffee mug at 9:05am.
9. Cleaning my desk phone with bleach.
10. Talking to myself.
11. Inspecting my nylons for runs/holes.
12. Playing Solitaire on my computer (I thought I was safe on this one because my laptop faces away from the door; that was until my coworker/friend came in and pointed out that my screen was perfectly visible in the reflection on my window.)
It is fairly safe to say that my coworkers think I am strange. Maybe not in a creepy, dirty, kid-toucher kind of way, but still strange. And they wouldn’t be wrong.