Many a New York City adult spends 40 hours (or more) per week in a grey, austere cubicle that is meant to simulate in some way a productive working environment. I always had a strong aversion to this system, since I saw it as the death of individual humanity and a patronizing throwback to those tiny school desks with a teacher constantly walking around checking up on you.
These days I find myself in a job that requires my presence in one of these boxes on a daily basis. It’s not so bad. I’ve found ways to make it feel more homey. I’m learning about the etiquette of selectively overhearing and ignoring conversations around me. I have nice windows in front of me and to the right of me (with only one row of cubicles obstructing my view in front and one desk – my boss – to the right). Working in the box can actually facilitate the creation of friendships.
And the fact that I now find this system palatable? Just another part of my inner child dying, I suppose. But hey, at least I have a cool wall decoration from Guatemala! Thanks, guys! 😀
2 replies on “Life in a box”
que maco queda, eh!! thanks for all, i prepara’t que quan vinguis farem un vermut hospitalenc i un dinar al “gallegu”!! petonets
ens veurem a gener! que estigueu bÃ©! un petonÃ s!