My office has an open environment, where we all have cubes instead of doors. It’s generally a fine set-up, unless you need privacy or your colleagues get a bit rowdy. Fortunately, I have a wireless ear piece, so if it gets noisy, I can generally grab my laptop and find a conference room without interrupting the call.
Last week we had network issues, which does to office workers what too much sugar does to infants: it causes melt-downs. My cube-mate (by which I mean: the woman on the other side of my cube, with whom I negotiate when I feel it’s necessary to fire up my space heater, and who, for the record, is awesome) expresses her frustration by pounding on her desk and hissing the F-word under her breath.
Like a rheumatic joint that predicts a storm, I can gauge our network speed by the way she’s pounding her desk on any given day. Thursday she was practically playing the bongos. “I think someone replaced my cord!” she said.
pithypants 