Oh, my goodness…. I must have jinxed myself by talking about work. I have been made ill!
My desk has switched locations six times in the past two years. There are two different buildings involved and both of them have their issues. I think I’ll be staying put for now. Or at least until the next round of layoffs, which might open up another space. None of the moves have ever been made voluntarily. One of them even happened while I was on vacation. I returned to find that my desk had been moved. No advance warning or anything!
The current location is inside a double-wide trailer. There are nine – count ’em! – nine “offices” inside the trailer, plus a kitchen, bathroom and conference room. Of course, the boss’s office is as large as the conference room, so you can imagine the amount of space allotted to the rest of us.
I don’t have to imagine. During the latest round of reorganizing, I found out that I am specifically allotted six feet of width in which to contain my desk and filing cabinets. I found this out when I asked if I could shift my desk over “a bit” so that I could move my chair out from under the desk without it hitting the wall behind me. No.
There’s no air circulation to speak of inside the trailer. Sure, when the air conditioning is on, the fan is so forceful that it blows papers off of desks, but that doesn’t happen when we turn on the “heating”. We have to turn up the thermostat to 78 (which, according to Manuel, is equal to 3 million degrees celsius. I think.) to stop the A/C. I don’t think there’s really a “heat” setting at all. Just A/C or no A/C.
This lack of air circulation contributes to the Office Poopers problem AND to the same germs being passed from person to person over and over. When the person at the next desk gets “the sick”, you know it’s only a matter of time before you succumb, extra vitamins be damned.
I finally fell too ill to haul myself out of bed on Friday. Even if I feel bad, I always go to work because I don’t want to have to call six different people and tell them that I’m not coming in that morning. I made the six calls Friday morning, then went back to bed and didn’t get up until Friday night. I couldn’t even get up when the cat tore up the bed and clawed my hair because it was lunch time and he wanted his Newman’s Own fix. He eventually walked away and ate out of the ginormous bowl of dry food that’s always available.
Maybe I’ll change into a different pair of pajamas and go back to bed.