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cubicle paranoia
So, the new cubicle.
I mean, it's a cubicle, and it was back to back to my old one, so everything feels reversed and generally wrong, but kind of expected that. But being on a new aisle surrounded by new people is weird in a way I did't expect. The lights seem dimmer, and the air is colder, and I swear everything smells faintly of cheese. Going down the aisle feels wrong and I'm pretty sure that the fax machine over here is evil because it doesn't make the weird but endearing chirping sounds The Other Fax Machine of My Heart made.
There's a very real possibility that I'm going to have some kind of odd cubicle related dementia set in any second now. I mean, *cheese*.
Also, people keep walking by my cubicle who I do not know who look at me and I feel kind of violated in a very strange, officey way.
Seriously, I am this close to going for coffee, and I don't *drink* coffee anymore at work due to coffee-related paranoia. This can't end well.
I mean, it's a cubicle, and it was back to back to my old one, so everything feels reversed and generally wrong, but kind of expected that. But being on a new aisle surrounded by new people is weird in a way I did't expect. The lights seem dimmer, and the air is colder, and I swear everything smells faintly of cheese. Going down the aisle feels wrong and I'm pretty sure that the fax machine over here is evil because it doesn't make the weird but endearing chirping sounds The Other Fax Machine of My Heart made.
There's a very real possibility that I'm going to have some kind of odd cubicle related dementia set in any second now. I mean, *cheese*.
Also, people keep walking by my cubicle who I do not know who look at me and I feel kind of violated in a very strange, officey way.
Seriously, I am this close to going for coffee, and I don't *drink* coffee anymore at work due to coffee-related paranoia. This can't end well.
no subject
*sulking in dark, strange-smelling cubicle of doom*
no subject
How 'bout this...in a show of solidarity for your suffering, I'll stock my personal office kitchen fridge with Brie, Gorgonzola Dolce, and perhaps a bit of Stilton (for the fresh pears, of course) so that I too will have the faint smell of cheese lingering.
My god, woman. What did you ever do to deserve a friend like me? *g*
the wheel of karma turns
Seriously, this (http://researchgrrrl.livejournal.com/18935.html) ought to make you feel better about only having a cheese smell in your cubicle of doom. I mean, at least it's not the acrid tang of poison death gas. Small mercies and all.