A ritual that brings together warring factions, a ritual that unites divided tribes, and makes brothers from those who were sworn blood enemies. I talk, of course, of the office move.
It is a necessity that is as unquestioned as it is actually unnecessary. Without any practical consideration or even any logic, my area maybe required to move next to I.T. (shudder) in the dungeon (basement) or next to accounts (Fit chicks woof!!) in the light and airy top floor, or and this is more likely, have to shift two desks along (for unexplained reasons).
This usually happens on a Friday to Sunday so that when you turn up on Monday morning everything is messed up and you can’t work. After a few hours of slight hysteria, after everyone’s special chairs have been located (With special butt padded fabric and groin grooves for those bad backs… or as I prefer to call them…whingers) and after the unseen troglodytes who usually aren’t allowed into the office have delivered all the pedestals to all the incorrect people; it is time. Time to check how close the kitchenette and toilet are.
Its what I call ‘Ability to Facility’. The most important criteria of all. A swift cuppa? Yes the kitchenette is literally within spitting distance. Is the toilet far away? Yes? That adds an extra five minutes on the morning ablutions.
The other vital reconnaissance I need to ascertain is how far am I from the boss and his pink-eyed ‘Droopy from Warner Bros cartoons’ face. I can see he has picked a nice sunny spot in a corner by two windows and is already spreading out his crap as we speak. These things matter.
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