TheMommyBlog

Thursday, September 23, 2004 Me, Me, Me, Workbits

Well, you might be wondering what prompted that little sapfest and that quote. It’s from a painted metal box I keep on my desk, and it was one of the three or four things I brought over to my new office yesterday. This will be office space number five for me, and by far the nicest.

When I knew the move was a go, I put my shrine of family photos in a crate and hand-picked a couple to come over with me along with my Wordsworth box and Tiffany clock. As I sat here arranging things, I thought about all the time I have been here, and the things I hope to be remembered for.

I now have a special opportunity to pay attention to that sort of legacy here at work, as I have been moved to an office on executive row (also affectionately know as Poobah Row or Stress Row, whichever). It’s temporary, for six months or maybe a year, but in the meantime I have a view with trees outside my window, twenty-foot ceilings, and two walls that are all glass from the top of the door up. I have coveted one of these babies for eleven years. In fact, I spent the first four years in a cube just down the hall, and used to gaze at the airy glass and riveted beams and wonder if I’d even get to sit under them.

Ahhhhhhhhh. This shit is good.

The downside is that I have to stop swearing like a sailor and walking around barefoot or in lounge pants, and my boss is two doors down. My very inquisitive boss. So no IM, no reading blogs, and definitely no web cam. I know, I know. I have already gone through two boxes of Kleenex in mourning.

But so far the welcome has been warm, and my neighbors have put out the red carpet. There are two dozen doughnuts in the kitchen, and I was presented with a plain brown bag containing my “cold mug” and a box of chocolates (Whitman Sampler! Get it? Ahhh, nevermind). Later this morning, I’ll run down and bury the mug in the ice bin with all the others so that it’s ready for the next after-hours margarita clinic…

So if you don’t see me round the blogs except for the odd wee hour, you’ll know why. But I will feel quite comforted by my photos, my Wordsworth, and my trees.