2005-04-13 - 10:50 a.m.

I'm now officially a prisoner in my own office.

As of today, the cheery, warm and often times filled-to-capacity-with bubbly co-eds office I used to know, has been transformed into the temporary home of the Preventions & Immunizations office.

As I shambled into work today at 9:06, I was greeted by the sounds of desks scraping along carpeted floor (how does metal scrape on carpet you ask? I didn't believe it either until I had to listen to it for 3 hours) and the overtly eager grins of a bunch of middle-aged women. I should have known the shit was going to hit the fan when one of them said, "This is sooooo cool! Just like Trading Spaces!"

Christ.

The SHC is undergoing some rennovations to expand the mental health area (which is good because I'm gonna need a nice large area to lay in while I explain my suicidal tendencies to a therapist following this moving experience) as well as the old Prevention area. So the decision was made to use the Health Promotion area (where my cozy lil cube is located) to temporarily house the Prevention and Immunizations team.

The current employees who work out of the Health Promotion office were all given clearance to work from home... except one. Alllll but one.

Due to the nature of my job I don't have the luxury of working via email from my backyard or some other sunny locale. Besides the numerous long-term projects that are always on my To-Do list, the bulk of my work comes from people thrusting their heads into my cube without warning and spewing out some "Oh shit I forgot I need this done by the end of the day" request. Thus, my boss decided to keep me here throughout the move, shoving me further into the cover and subjecting me to the influx of foriegn students getting immunization shots, allergy patients sniffling and blowing snot all over their sleeves, and the overweight, often times smelly staff that serves them.

I'm feeling a sudden kinship towards Milton from Office Space. The day they come for my stapler, the building burns.

So this is going to put a serious kink in my day-to-day schedule. Now I will have absolutely no choice but to arrive on time and chipper. Rumors have floated around regarding the intense jealousy that these women harbor towards me and my lax schedule, and they will no doubt be keeping a vigil, watching the clock and marking special time cards that will be brought to the attention of my boss should I show up 48 seconds late.

Middle age women, employed in a job where there is no color, no creativity, just the answering of phones, administering of shots, and the organizing of files. And here I am, the only young man (hell the only guy under 40) earning a pretty penny for cranking out mediocre ads, silly brochures, and quasi successful virtual tours. I'd hate myself too.

So goodbye late arrivals, goodbye 2 hour "creative team-building" lunches, goodbye early departures, and goodbye loud music and hot girls.

This is bullshit. I have to be a responsible employee. That was never part of the plan.

This could be the single most depressing day of 2005.

Luckily, I get a brief respite to kind of gear up and get ready for these new living conditions. I'm leaving for Tennessee tomorrow to celebrate ole G'mas 75th birthday. Can't wait to spend some quality time out in the woods with my nephew and brother. I wish Daniel could make it but he's too busy batting .750 and racking up RBI's like it's his job... which hopefully it will be in a few years.

When the birthday festivities have ended, I'll probably spend the remaining days stretching my legs across the 100 acres of land, dipping my toes in the ice-cold natural creek, and wrapping my arms around a few good climbing trees. I can't wait for that first gust of wind to blow the smell of earth right up my nostrils like a mainline injection into the brain. And to hear the familiar creaks and groans of the kitchen floor of my grandmas house... All of this coming just in time to save my sanity from this crazy mad house in the making.

So they're still moving shit around, banging into the back side of my cube, carrying on about inane shit like who's going to tape the soap operas this week, how they're going to wedge their fat asses into the new chairs, and what they're going to order for lunch today. Oh god, that might be the worst part. They eat alllllll the time. Prior to the move, when I had to take things to my boss for her approval, I would walk through the Prevention waiting room, only to be floored by the overpowering stench of Chinese, fast-food, fried chicken, etc...

And we're a health center.

I need some sort of votive candle or perhaps one of those dashboard Jesus's (Jesi?) to banish the evil thoughts festering in my mind. Something I can look at every 5 minutes or so and remind myself that this is only for a few months while murder = 20 to life.

Ok. 6 hours left and I can kiss work goodbye for a few days.

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