Death of a Cubicle

I loved my cubicle. I mean, as far as cubicles go, it was a good space. I even took liberties in writing about it . It wasn’t exactly a mahogany laden office but was, if nothing else, my private corner of the world where I could accomplish that which I needed to do. Well, I could accomplish what I needed to do until someone within our management structure decided to destroy our walls of protection by following the pointy haired boss in Dilbert

I can only describe it as an absolute nightmare. This saddens me greatly because I like my job and what I do. The ever present hum-drum of noise has turned into a chorus of chaos where I now here every single phone call, every single conversation, the loud keystrokes of my neighbors and the footsteps of those passing by. Even worse, because of the open workspace, people believe it is somehow acceptable to stand directly behind you when they require your attention. I vocally predicted this nightmare when our management brought the arrangement up and now my nightmare has come true.

Management (and I use the term lightly) seems to think the arrangement will foster communication. Nothing could be further from the truth. It does foster unwanted noise and distractions and, on slightly positive note, it has fostered nerf-gun wars and random flying objects. We’ve fostered about as much communication as Israel and Palestine (on a good day).

Do I hate this arrangement enough to quit my job? I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d make that leap in conclusion but I can say this: If someone offered me the same salary, the same benefits AND a cubicle, well, I’d be mightily tempted. Autonomy can never be underestimated. For now I’ll tolerate the work arrangement much like I tolerate the Texas heat, fly-by mosquitoes and the random influenza virus: I’ll deal with it and move on. I can only hope that the powers that be realize their mistake as soon as possible.

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