Oct 28 2003

My office went through a rearranging last week. Unlike the fun, playful rearrangings we've been subjected to in the past, this time the Powers That Be created the floorplan. No input from the movees was allowed. Suggestions were met with a, "this floor plan will be just fine." The rearranging was delayed until our administrative-expense surplus was large enough to spend, now returning us closer to the breaking point when it comes to our performance-based goals.

I was shifted from one end of the building to the other, in a nearly mirrorlike fashion. I can now watch my car in the parking lot aaaaallll day long if I wanted to, while the west-facing window I had before allowed me to observe approaching storms with great detail. I'm closer to the bathrooms now, which, although convenient, also allows me to keep track of everyone else's toilet use as well.

My desk went from being a left-handed desk to a right-handed desk. The difference has to do with the layout of the 'l' shape. The side the narrower workspace goes on is considered which "handed" the desk is. My previous desk was a leftie, but now I was given a rightie. Because of the layout, I've been forced to rearrange the clerical tools of my job. Every time I staple, I hold the bundle of papers in my right hand and swipe them in the direction of my radio's new residence. I pause for a moment, while the dissonance sinks in. Then, I move the papers to my left hand, and they find their way to the electric stapler's new home.