Oftentimes, I feel as though I am the only voice of reason in an office that exists in a parallel dimension of unnecessary chaos and confusion.
Perhaps it is because I want to be there the least of anyone else, I’m not sure. For some reason, though, I find myself solving everyone else’s problems in such an economical and efficient manner that it actually concerns me.
I’m not sure if I’ve become a minimalist, or if I am in fact the most intelligent person in this office (whoa there, guy, that’s quite a bold statement there).
Take this past week, for example.
Anna – how did we all know she’d be involved – was calling a meeting of sorts right outside my door. Out of courtesy, I always have my door open so than anyone can come right in and ask me something or get my attention from their desk. She was being so incredibly loud that I actually considered closing the door.
Before I continue, you must understand that Anna possesses a voice that belongs in a different echelon of sounds. There are noises we can hear, there are noises dogs can hear and we can’t, and then there are noises that both we and dogs can hear but don’t want to. Guess whose voice falls in that category.
If I HAD to describe what it was like, I’d say it’s a healthy mix between a velociraptor screeching and that noise Jim Carrey makes in Dumb and Dumber.
Imagine (... Dragons... hehe) that fearsome concoction of explosive and piercing sound. But worse.
Anyway, this violent plane crash of a voice was whipping wrecked shrapnel through my doorway for quite some time – leading me with no choice but to engage in confrontation.
“Engage in confrontation.”
That sounds way more epic and aggressive than what actually happened but hey, we’re all guilty of occasional hyperbole.
I poked my head out the door to see that Anna had called an impromptu meeting of sorts.
“How nice of you to join us, Jake.”
Although, maybe she did tell me there’d be a meeting. Wait. Yes. She did. I remember. “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk had just come on my Pandora and she probably interpreted my squeal of delight as an anticipatory exclamation of glee at the idea of her meeting. What a croc.
Do you know where we get that term? “What a croc”?
Anyway, I show up (late) to this little office meeting to find that it was called for the purpose of figuring out who should sit where for the time being before we move to our new office in Andover.
Now, I was under the impression that there was no need to move anybody around the office because it just doesn’t make sense. I soon found that it was because Jillian was going to be charged with mentoring two new employees and she didn’t see it fit for her to walk to the opposite side of the office to talk to them if she’d be dealing with them directly all day long.
The proposal Anna was making was – I kid you not – to take me from my desk and move me to Sal’s desk, move Sal to my desk, and then uproot two more people and have the new part-time employees sit in the two desks closest Jillian.
Yes, that’s right. Part of that idea did in fact include Sal and I switching desks.
Her thinking was that Sal should maybe be closer to them IN CASE they needed his specific assistance with something.
Anna, smirking from ear to ear after having laid out her fool proof plan to make my life miserable and consume as much as everyone else’s time as possible, then asked what I thought since I’d be a person being relocated in her new plan.
“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but Jillian is the one teaching these two, and not Sal. So, I don’t think he and I have to move – that would just be additional and unnecessary commotion. And since they’re working on the days that Johnny and Paul aren’t can’t they just share the same desks?”
It seems like a very simple solution, and it is. It is literally the most simple solution to the most insignificant of problems. And my response garnered a wave of appreciative and enlightened “Mmmmm’s” from the group. Paul – the same Paul whom I suggested could share his desk – even said, “I don’t mind that one bit.”
At the beginning of this blog post I forgot to mention that my penchant for solving trivial, first-world problems such as this does not imply that my suggestions are always followed.
The next day was Wednesday, when Johnny and Paul are off. I came into work to find Sal sitting at my desk.
Anna: “I just thought my idea made more sense.”
It’s a fact. I work with children. And not smart ones, like the E*TRADE baby.
Feature photo screenshot by Jake Miller/Gavel Media
This blog and all of its previous entries have been completely satirical in their intent. All names have been changed, but to be honest - half of the people you've come to know and love were completely made up. Also, much of my content was made up to entertain you wonderful readers because, let's be honest, who wants to read about me actually doing work at work.