Moving
I've moved desks again today; which is to say, my desk has moved and me with it. After six months or so of sitting in the worst possible position (in the middle of the office, back to the door), I'm now safely with my back --more or less -- against the wall. This is much better.
When I say, "back to the door," it's a euphemism for, "Back to the boss's office, where he could see everything I had on my computer screen through his glass partition." I can't tell you how much better this is. The fish tank behind me is making a lot of noise, but even the fish is/are not immune to being moved, and he/she/it will be moving soon, too.
They move us around on a regular basis, it keeps everyone paranoid, which is how they like it. Ironically, I'm more or less in the exactly the same position I was when I started here 4 years ago (almost exactly 4 years ago).
Those were the days.
When I say, "back to the door," it's a euphemism for, "Back to the boss's office, where he could see everything I had on my computer screen through his glass partition." I can't tell you how much better this is. The fish tank behind me is making a lot of noise, but even the fish is/are not immune to being moved, and he/she/it will be moving soon, too.
They move us around on a regular basis, it keeps everyone paranoid, which is how they like it. Ironically, I'm more or less in the exactly the same position I was when I started here 4 years ago (almost exactly 4 years ago).
Those were the days.
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