I was born. I suffered.
I suffered some more, and hopefully,
I won't die a painful death.
This is my life.

Making personal calls in a cubicle is a bitch.


My company has recently relocated to a much nicer building with such amenities as a working hvac system and a coffee machine.  The coffee machine in the old building was one of those big metal industrial ones. The limescale in it was so great that it dispensed pumice.  Our heating and air conditioning system blew toxic mold into everyone's office.  It was so cold in the winter I would have to wear gloves.  The building's maintenance man's only qualification was that he lived across the street.  The thermostat that controlled the zone by me just happened to be located in woman's office with all of the health problems and comp cases.  Hence, it was always set at the opposite of what a normal person would have it on.


There is one downside to the new salt mine, cubicles!  Yes, cubicles, the deployment system of uniformity.  In the old building everyone had their own office.  This was very convenient when you had to talk on the phone.  Loud talkers could just shut the door and jaw all they wanted.  As you can imagine it is quite impossible to scream at your ex or have a phone interview with another company with 85 people listening.


Some corporate whores may say you shouldn't take personal calls at work.  That's fine.  If they want to lick the boots and kiss the ass of the nearest middle manager, I'll watch their backbone shrivel and dry up on my way to the unemployment line.  Whatever.