Yeah, I'm working at home again.
Working at home is awesome. I try to do it as much as possible. In the near future, it might become even MORE of a regular thing, for a couple of reasons:
1) Tinkerbell, when in the 'on' position, continues to sound like a half-full gravel truck bouncing over a frost-heaved logging road.
2) the term 'open plan' is being bandied about my workspace.
Reason 1 is all about money, and how I have none to spend on having Tink's engine torn apart yet again so the guys who initially 'fixed' her a few months ago by putting in a new crankshaft sensor, water pump, and timing belt can this time put in the 'balance belt' that should have been replaced ALONG with all the other crap so that it my baby car will no longer sound like her engine (motor?) is trying to shimmy itself loose from its moorings at each turn and slight bump in the way. It's slightly scary sounding, and I can't help but think that the more I drive her the worse the problem is going to get, and lawd didn't I just spend a mortgage payment on her to have the brakes totally redone? Yes, yes I did, and it pretty much wiped out the ol' emergency fund...so no more emergencies for a while is the story there. That 24-mile 1-way to work can't be helping matters.
Reason 2 is about my friggin sanity. In case you didn't know, "open plan" is so much MORE than a cube farm, my friends.
Let me explain.
This is a cube farm (AKA "why I know too much about my coworkers alimentary canals")
See, there's at least SOME semblance of privacy. A girl can kick back if she's got the right cube...prefeably one WAY in the back, that nobody but her has to go past to get to someplace else. In short, a cube like I have now.
Horrifyingly, THIS? Is mother-feggering OPEN PLAN:
You can well imagine my consternation. THERE ARE NO WALLS!!! Open plan is a lifetime of skin-crawling colleague comingling of a sort I cannot conscience. The 'closeness' and 'camraderie" it's supposed to engender (a really good word, and used far too rarely) are blatant lies.
All's I can see happening (because it's clear I'll be able to SEE everything as well as hear it) is that now there will be visuals as well as audibles to distract me/gross me out. I will now be able to see the satisfied look on the Pharter's face after he rips a good one, be able to watch the Stats Man slurp his tea, be able to observe the ladies three workstations away chatter on about this n' that (a pastime that keeps them occupied for much of every day), and what's worse, they will be able to see ME as I try to sit up straight, not pick or rub or scratch, and keep focused on tasks at hand. No to mention the loss of perfectly good internet time-wasting...
Obviously, no good can come of the open plan, and so I intend to boycott it as much as possible by staying away from the office as much as possible. Sheesh, I need my PICKING TIME, people!
You know what? I spent 10 lovely soft warm years in an office with a dang DOOR before coming to cube HELL, and now it appears as if the cube was only the first level down to Lucifer's corner office.
What's next? We sit in each other's LAPS and work?
Again, sheesh.
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I hope you're all keeping well, and that the rabid crab invasion hasn't happened in YOUR part of the world either.
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