Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

needle in a haystack

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Towards the end of my working day I was asked to find a needle in a haystack. I attacked full force, heave hoeing with my pitchfork so-to-speak and throwing the pieces of hay aside in hopes of finding the item of interest (one single data point amid a million or so others).  As 5 pm approached, I left everything where it was and abandoned the task with hopes that my morning latte would somehow provide a clear path to discovery.

But NOOOOO!

I’m on cup #2 and am having no more luck than yesterday. My guess is that the “needle” fell out of the haystack on the way to the barn or, perhaps, was never there at all. At any rate, I certainly cannot find it.

breaking for lunch

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Lunchtime Run.jpg

Apparently, more than a third of the working class spends their lunch hour eating at the desk. I too have sometimes felt the need to work through lunch to either hit a deadline or make up for time lost at an appointment or in traffic.

But I also know from experience that getting away from my desk serves to make me more productive and focused when I return. If you don’t believe me, try it.

This is especially true when I break for lunch and use the time to exercise: run, cycle, walk, or yoga.

Perhaps this is why these two opted not to sit at their desks today. I wonder how much more focused they were upon their return to the office. Or how envious others were that they too did not take the time out to get away and clear their mind.

stop & smell the roses

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Everything smelled like roses when I first entered the office this morning. I’m not kidding; the fragrance hit as soon as the first door shut. Yet there are no roses in sight. It’s winter, you know. Although there is plenty of sunshine, we have all cut back our bushes in anticipation of cold weather.

By the time the 2nd door shut the scent is long gone, as is the beautiful feelings one associates with the scent. Work has been a stressful and depressing atmosphere. We do our best to stay motivated and hope that our hard work will eventually result in good.

We sure could use a little good around these parts. Even when we stop to smell, the rose-scented foyer is not quite enough to fool us into thinking that everything is coming up roses.

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in sickness

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I somehow felt driven to go to work yesterday — even though I felt illness coming on strong. Hours later, as I slowly scrolled through the documents I’m due to collate comments on, I seriously questioned my being there. The intent of my review was to familiarize myself with each of the nine documents so that when comments and edits came rolling in (at the ninth hour of course) I’d be able to quickly navigate though the documents and incorporate them all in a timely manner. But I could not concentrate.

In addition to feeling like my desk has been plopped down in the middle of a call center, the coughing and having to get up for more warm water (or to pee) thoroughly distracted me from my goal. I’d read and reread the documents, searching for my place. What was the point of my being there?

The mere fact that the culture I work in is compelled to come into the office in both sickness and in health has always maddened me. “Go home!,” I would tell them, “I don’t want what you have.” Yet here I was, in the office just because I felt like I wasn’t sick enough to justify a sick day — especially when the boss said she’d hardly heard me coughing. It made no sense.

During lunch, instead of joining the masses for the bi-weekly lunch, I grabbed my food and ate at my desk. I wished I’d had the energy to run but knew it would just push me over the edge. Although I was better in the quiet, this extra hour of work only served to wear me out even further. No surprise. I’ve always believed that walking away from my work mid-day helps to reset my mind for better efficiency and concentration. Generally, my body needs movement as well.

Not until I was leaving did I feel even remotely “sick enough” to be home. I grabbed my keys and said good-night to my colleague, murmuring “I’m taking my germs home now.” Much to my surprise, I heard a loud “GOOD!” come from her cube. Then I began to wonder if my perception of the cultural expectation to be seen in the office regardless of your health status was accurate. Perhaps I was still in denial that I was indeed sick.

Today, there is no denying that I am indeed sick. I will NOT be going to the office.  I feel it is needed, if only to be able to cough as hard as required to get this gunk moved out. Since I’m here in bed, I may as well take a really long nap too.

The Spy Ball

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SpyBall.jpg

This mirrored globe sits on the ceiling above the center-most cubicles in my new work dwelling. I’ve named it the spy ball as you can see into each of the cubicles without getting up from your chair. Fortunate for me, I reside in one of the farthest cubicles from the thing. As all the boxes get unpacked and the dust settles (literally), I find that the ball is the least of my worries.

Although we aren’t as packed in like sardines as I had imagined the narrow walkway that leads to my cubicle has caused me reason to sniffle. The handmade bowl that Big Sis made for me when she was in college was rendered unusable thanks to my hitting it on one of the filing cabinets as I was returning to my cubicle after washing it. Seems that the walkway is even narrower than I thought.

In spite of the adjustments, I can be thankful that I still have a job.  In this day and age, is not something anyone can take for granted.

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