Cube Life, Part One

When I started my last job, I had very little work to do. For weeks, I would ask my supervisor, "Is there anything you need or want me to do today?" Invariably, she'd answer, "Oh, we'll have lots of work coming your way soon. Don't worry." So, I'd create as much work for myself as I could and spend the rest of the time writing observations about life in a cubicle. I just happened upon one of those observations and thought I'd share it. (The names have been changed to protect the innocent.)

Wednesday, March 24th, 2004

My cube neighbor at work had a baby last night. Well, his fiancée did. When I came to work this morning the office was buzzing with baby talk. “Did you hear? Bob had the baby last night. It’s a girl. A little girl!” Since I sit next to Bob, I was forced to field all of the questions from people walking by and noticing that he was absent. “Gasp! Bob's not here today? Did the baby come?!” By the end of the day I’d hear a gasp and say, without breaking keystroke, “4:26 p.m. yesterday. Serena Kaylee. 6 pounds, 12 ounces, 20 inches.”

Of course someone having a baby puts everyone in the mood to talk about their own kids. My supervisor, who sits across from me, held up a painting her 5-year-old made at school yesterday. With tears in her eyes, she insisted it was a perfect rendition of daffodils, and that her little girl was destined to be the next Rembrandt. It was a picture of yellow blobs.

The woman who sits on the other side of my cube is pregnant. As I was returning from fetching my second cup of coffee, she called me over to her desk to show me the pictures taken during her ultrasound this morning. “Have you ever been to an ultrasound?” she asked with a mixture of pity and pleasure in her tone. As if a pathetic, childless, single gal such as me was less of a woman for not experiencing this blessed joy. “Actually, I have,” I was able to reply, thanks to a friend of mine. She seemed startled. “Oh. (Pause) Well, isn’t this picture amazing? That’s my baby!” It was a picture of a grey blob.

Another woman in my department came over this afternoon with her son’s latest artistic creation. “Look what Brian made for me!” She held up a giant conglomeration of ragged, cutout red construction-paper, supposed-to-be hearts, held together by approximately 49 stickers, and scribbled on with thick black marker that bled through the paper. “It says, ‘I love you Mommy and Daddy.” “Actually,” I replied, “It says, ‘I luv you Mommy and Dabby.” She just stood there staring at it as she said, “He didn’t have any tape or glue, so he used stickers. He’s just so creative!” It was a construction paper/sticker/marker red blob.

As I walked to the bathroom after my third cup of coffee, I noticed something for the first time: Every cubicle and office was covered with pictures of families and art projects created by kids. What’s hanging in my cube? A picture of me, Kirstin, Lee and Jonathan roller skating on New Year’s Day and my own masterpiece – Sad Clown.