Slowly but surely, I am being boxed in at work. That sounds bad, I’ll explain. I returned from a week away to find a small puddle of cardboard boxes containing various odds and ends near to my desk. Over the past few days, this colony has expanded. It’s nothing personal, I think. When you look at the floorplan, it’s definitely a logical place for these things to live before they get moved to somewhere more convenient for all involved (i.e. me). We are a little limited on handy areas with reduced foot traffic.
If this stuff keeps piling up it’ll severely impeded my ability to trot to the kitchen for my traditional four or five cups of tea a day. A more athletic gal might see this as a handy opportunity to showcase or even develop her show jumping or pole vaulting abilities. So far I’ve toyed with the idea of going the whole hog and building a fort. That’s professional, right?
For anyone getting remotely worried at this stage, it’s totally not a big deal. It really isn’t. I know that saying that makes it sound a bit like it might be but it’s absolutely not. Seriously. Get off my case. It’s hardly as if I couldn’t move the boxes myself. It’s just an example ok? I don’t get out much, topic inspiration has to come from somewhere and I’m tired of worrying about the current state of the political climate (I may or may not have binged on watching the whole sorry affair and ended up with my head in my hands).
The point is, barring making a few hopefully vaguely witty comments, I’ve done nothing. I’ve simply let it happen. I’ve got on with an alternative task in hand and hoped that the problem won’t get to a point of affecting me too seriously. Not that it’s really a big deal. It’s fine. If needs be, I’ll make a tunnel. Or start getting to my desk via the handy first floor window to my immediate right.
Let it happen – Jimmy Eat World