My office is cursed with some unfortunate geography. Just outside my door, I have the following:
- Fax machine
- Photocopier
- Printer
- The Most Amazingly Loud Electric Stapler in the Known Universe
- Document disposal bins
- Conference room
- Open area where people constantly chitchat about everything under the sun
- One secretary
- A second conference room just across from the secretary
As if that was bad enough, I share a wall with the ladies restroom. All day long I hear tap-tap-tapping of high heels on ceramic tile floor, a pause, a flush, more tapping, the paper towel dispenser and then the tap-tap-tapping of high heels as they exit the restroom. It's enough to make a gal lose her sleep-deprived mind.
Today, there is an all-morning meeting going on in the conference room. During the breaks, the meeting attendees (you guessed it) stand around gabbing right outside my office door. Can't they at least use their 'indoor voice' rather than the testosterone-induced 'mine is bigger than yours' bull moose bellowing? Apparently not.
Well, close the door, you may say. Unfortunately, I suffer from a little bit of claustrophobia, my office has no windows, and my shut-door tolerance is oh, about 20 minutes. Even with the door closed, those bull-moose voices travel right through my walls.
To quote the inimitable Charlie Brown, 'Argh!' I cannot believe I allowed them to promote me into this crappy little office only 2/3 the size of my previous (and did I mention no window?).
Honestly I'm not bitter (well, at least most of the time) and 80% of the time I can ignore the constant racket. I've also picked up some interesting office gossip while located in Grand Central Station. Unfortunately, it's days when loud meetings coincide with raging PMS that I feel my head will explode. Today, I'd rather change spaces with Mr. W. He may have a cubicle, but at least he gets some hints of daylight and backup when individuals become too loud.
M.W.
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