Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/middle-of-the-night JD’s readers. I’m wonderfully honored to be guest blogging over here today while you’ll find Jon over on my site, compliments of the fabulous 20-Something Bloggers. The quickest tid-bits that’ll give you a glimpse into my world is this: I’m 26 years old, living in Austin, I have two dogs, am dating a Jon (always a great name), I have a relatively new job in the music industry, I work in human resources, and I’ve recently gone back to school to finish my degree in HR Management. Sadly, this pretty much sums me up in a nut shell (serves me right for taking on work and school I guess). This morning I arrived in the office, as always, thirty minutes earlier than the rest of crew and once AGAIN, found my stapler gone missing. Sounds crazy, I know, how this could possibly aggravate me… so here’s my story.
Over the past few months- well, couple of years really- I’ve begun to realize just how absolutely, utterly and undeniably fucking annoying it is to have an office smack-dab in the middle of the daily office traffic jam. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve often relished in the fact that I see everyone each morning and get to smile (and occasionally annoy) them with my “GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE!” comment, hear all the latest gossip and news, and otherwise get to be included in on all the action- company-related or not. However, having a desk out in the open must have an invisible sign that reads, “Community Property”. Or maybe even, “Office Supplies Found Here!” in neon lights.
At my last place of employment, I was required to share my desk with others so they could cover my responsibilities while I was out to lunch or on vacation. I’d come back with a mound of scattered papers on my desk… so I’d sigh, scoop them up and haul off to my back-up’s area.
“Hey girl. Um, are these yours?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot those! Thanks.”
Pieces of hole punches would be littered across my desk, pens missing, radio still on (my station changed), and grease smeared on my phone. Yes. Grease. From certain individuals eating at my desk when there had existed a not-so-enforced company policy of no-eating-at-your-desk. Apparently, it excluded other people’s desks. Worse, the same person would routinely stop by my desk later in the day to ask if I have seen this and that of hers (occasionally even taking whatever it was of mine, given I had a replica).
More recently I’ve decided that even the smallest items I have strategically placed on my desk for convenience, have LEGS. Because somehow, they run off. Stickies, pens, my stapler and tape (those in which I usually hunt down across the building somewhere), you name it… I turn around about every other day and they’re GONE. Whole notebooks I had MY OWN NOTES ON would disappear. On occasion, someone will actually ask me to borrow something and I’d gladly let them haul off with it. Two days later, I’d get in early and have to perform my crazy scavenger hunt throughout the office to retrieve that item. I bet the view from the security cameras is quite hilarious.
Now really, I’m not this much of a hog or snob as I probably sound. I’m actually really laid back and great at sharing. However after nine years of this, I’m ready to post signs, wrap warning DO NOT CROSS tape everywhere, and otherwise take back my damn desk. In armor with a sword, readily waiting to chop off limbs reaching for my things.
After spending the weekend registering for the fall semester, hunting for the cheapest possible used spine-holding-on-by-a-thread textbooks I’m required to have next month and otherwise sorting through my budget for school and textbook payments, I began the official breakdown. I’ve been in a corporate environment going on ten years… five years exempt-level… four years HR, one of those years exempt. I have two years going at the not-so-fulltime-pace of school left to finish and by then, I’ll be certified as a PHR. The conclusion is this: I should be promoted to having an office with a DOOR within three to four years. Five max.
Honestly, given I’m in human resources, this isn’t exactly asking for a whole lot. Currently to have the confidential conversations my duties tend to require of me, I have to jump through the hoops of booking one of the conference rooms (I already need my armor and fencing skills for that task as it is) or wander outside to the park benches in 100+ degree Texas heat all geared up in work attire. The highlight of my days, as always.
One day, oh just maybe one day, I’ll get that door promotion I dream of for my future. A door where I can hang a sign that reads, “Welcome to Vegas: What’s Said Here, Stays Here” or something cheesy to that effect. In the meantime however, as I try to be patient with those around me, I might just write up a company posting on office etiquette. Or post a huge sign on my desk that reads “Everything HERE stays HERE ASSHOLES”.
I like your sign “Welcome to Vegas: What’s Said Here, Stays Here.” Very cheesy 🙂
Good luck with that door promotion!
Why is it calling me anonymous? Oh dear, now I’m too confused to even comment properly…