Wednesday, November 16, 2005

The Wall

A couple years back, I got reorganized from the Fourth Floor down to the Second Floor. After being reorganized again last January, someone got the idea that it might be a good idea for me to be kicked back upstairs. The estimated re-reorg was to take place in July of this year, and I was to move into my former office which had been turned into a conference room. As could be expected, I made it upstairs a month late to a conference room instead of an office. No problem; I'd been working in The Agora before, so can handle just about everything now.

Things were coming along swimmingly until about three weeks ago, when I got a memo. Apparently, my wall was finally going to be built. Would be an overnight project, so I'd not be inconvenienced in any way.

Har! If anything, I got to know the guys in facilities really well: nailguns, buzzsaws and everything. Initially, I was to get a full wall and a door. Didn't happen. They started with a sort of shelf thing that was about four feet high. People would come by, lean over the shelf to see what I was doing and ask me why I had a shelf put in. Sometimes I'd answer that IT was starting an ice cream stand. Other times, that I needed it so that I could take in laundry. Someone in HR asked, so I replied that we were piloting puppet theater as an alternative to e-learning.

Word of my lunch counter got around to the head of facilities, so he inspected. Didn't understand why we weren't happy with the half a wall, but put in another workorder to get it extended to a reasonable height (meaning high enough for me to get some privacy). The next afternoon, the workmen came back and, after making fun of me for not being happy with the wall, started work again. After a few days (couple of which I couldn't stay in my work area), they extended it to about six feet (to my occasional cries of "For the Love of God,Montressor!" -Karen got it, anyway.) Now people have to lean around the wall in order to ask me how well I like it.

As I write, am chuckling a little. Before the workers got around to painting my wall, Karen and I tagged it. Since they only used one coat of paint, I'm still seeing her little maxim which didn't quite disappear: "Petit à petit l’oiseau fait son nid."


Anonymous said...

"Nemo me lacessit impune."

Be said...

THAT goes without saying, Sir.

(Actually, someone wrote the same, only in English, on my boss's wall when she was waiting for her office to be painted.)