©2022 Michael Raven
Long day. A shift, fluid, around me.
As I put it earlier today: a week ago, I was invited to vacate my personal office in the company’s leased space by no later than November 30th of this year. I had the audacity to elect to continue to work from home when given a choice about the matter. Who would want to do such things?
Well, that someone might be me, who doesn’t enjoy driving in rush hour traffic during heavy snowfall events. Or without snowfall events. Or without rush hour traffic. I don’t much see the point when my “facetime” with folks in the office amounts to once or twice a day someone decides to pop their head into my office to ask a question. The remainder of the time, I rarely see a soul except when I make the journey to the bathroom, or look to grab one of those bribes called a donut which magically appear every other Wednesday.
Honestly, I can’t see going back five days a week.
To be fair, I was bucking to work from home before the pandemic hit for these very reasons and was denied the opportunity. After the pandemic, it seems that there are more than a few of us who aren’t all that interested in seeing our coworkers face-to-face for the sake of being able to say we saw them face-to-face. There are more than a few people at my workplace who find the very idea of communicating outside of face-to-face communication to be one of the most horrifying things of which they’d ever heard. And, being extroverts, they are loud about expressing this opinion while us quiet introverts squirm in agony at the prospect of having to return to the office en masse.
I was a bit peeved at the tone of the email instructing us to gather up our personal shit and make ready to “sign out” offices for when we swing by the office meatspace. My private room, with a door, was well worth giving up sunlight for, and one of the only incentives I had to make the effort to swing by the minimum amount of days. And, as of November 30th, that incentive goes “poof”.
So I packed up 99% of my stuff and a few things I was told I could bring home as well and I’m now incentivized to turn the basement room I use as my office into an actual office space. So, I went to one of those big box stores to look at paint and items to improve the room (lighting, installing extra outlets, replacement suspended ceiling tiles that the cats found a way to crawl inside, paint colors, alternative adhesives because I can’t use nails or screws in certain areas, etc.). What a mess. Then there’s getting a better office chair (my workplace will front me a chunk of money for this item and I will definitely take them up on that, some real shelving and a way to organize some of my clutter (might be useful! clutter).
It’s been surreal today, packing up to leave without being fired. Or quitting. And yet, almost feeling like one of those two things occurred when I wasn’t looking.
Cue School of Fish and Three Strange Days.
Or maybe… Ana Ng…
I don’t want the world. I just want your half.