Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Life Lesson #40: Dear Abby...

Things have been a little crazy over here. This is due to the office move of my (relatively) new place of employment. We’ve abandoned the hell that is Midtown West to calmer grounds east, just above Gramercy. And so a late entry, for which I apologize.

The New Digs are actually quite a big deal for me. They are, as some would call, the Make or Break point. Which is why I’d like to write them, as in The New Digs, a letter, just say they understand how important this change is to me.

Now, before proceeding, I need to pay homage to a man I’ve never met but would like to shake the hand of: Timothy McSweeny. I’m not really sure who he is, but to be honest, I’m tired and not really in a research-y kind of mood. I’ve been unpacking boxes, recording voicemail messages and trying to get my freakin’ printer to work for three days now. Cut me a little slack.

What I can say, however, is that McSweeny has a great website, and even further, an amazing section called
Open Letters to People or Entities Who Are Unlikely to Respond. If you’re too lazy to click on the link I so nicely attached, the title pretty much sums it up. Basically, people write letters to other people, places, inanimate objects, whatever, that will never get read. It’s a little mental release if you will. Most of them are hilarious. Some kind of sad. Others, totally creepy.

On that note, here it goes.

Dear New Digs,

First and foremost, I’d like to formally introduce myself. I get the feeling that since the company has come and completely occupied your Eight Floor (and the Concourse in a few weeks, if you hadn’t already heard); you can’t remember one name from another. No worries. I was the New Girl just shy of two months ago, so I know how it is. Wouldn’t it be nice if we all wore name tags to help you out? While that was tough to ask for, I was able to go around and put up signs with everyone’s name in each section. Hope it helps.

As I was saying, I’m Penny. I work all the way at the end of your Hall, to the right of the Pantry and Bathrooms but before you hit the huge Palm Tree. I anticipate killing the poor plant pretty soon, not because I’m malicious or anything, but because I suck at taking care of living, breathing things, so you might want to warn it. If it doesn’t make noise, I forget it's there. Just ask the Plants in my Apartment.

Next, I’d like to thank you for opening up your Elevators to us. I know I speak for more than just myself when I say we are very excited for the opportunities you present to us. I would like to emphasize that I’m probably the most little-kid-on-Christmas-morning-eager to be here. You see, the Old Office and I did not get along so well. A brief outline of why:

1. It bore a striking resemblance to Fort Knox. I had to use a swipe card just to move ten feet. And the Executive
Area that I was in was so paranoid; I was one of only four people that could even gain access to it! Four people out of over one hundred!

2. Given the prison-like nature of The Old Office, it goes without saying that my area was pretty damn quiet. And very depressing. Whether or not there were even other people in the company was impossible for me to decipher since I was locked behind glass doors, only to mingle with others when I went to use the bathroom. I became that weird girl that would strike up a convo with the woman in the stall next to her just because I hadn’t had human contact for over four hours.

3. The Old Office neighborhood was pretty crappy. Wedged in between Rockefeller Center and Times Square, I felt like I was constantly in the middle of a National Lampoon New York Adventure gone horribly wrong. I got side swiped with subway maps and fanny packs on a daily basis. Food was terribly expensive. And the blaring horns and screaming street vendors made me want to gouge my eyes out.

4. Apparently heat was not an option for The Old Office. I was always freezing. I’d wear three layers, wrap a scarf around my legs, and still be chattering away. Now, you were pretty frigid too the past two days. But a call to your Maintenance Room, and I think the problem is solved. Well done.

As you might gather, you pose much promise for me. A chance to meet co-workers in you kick-ass Coffee Bar just around the hall from me; an great view out my Giant Window that overlooks Madison Square Park; a Television in my boss’s office that I will most certainly abuse when he is not here; what seems to be a working Heating System – something which my apartment is severely lacking and thus much appreciated when I’m here eight-thirty to five; a chance to eat at a restaurant that isn’t a giant chain or tourist trap; and a fifteen minute door-to-door commute.

So here is to what I hope is a great, new friendship, within the confines of a Work Environment, of course. I hope to be able to learn all you have to offer in the next few weeks. And if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to stop by. You know where I am.

Best wishes,

Penny


PS – An Appendix to The Keyboard Shelf Attached to the Desk

Dear Keyboard Shelf,

I know you’re here to make my life easier, with your smooth ability to glide under the desk when I don’t need to type and, well, that’s it I guess. I gather you mean to make my life easier. But honestly, if you don’t stop falling of your tracks and slamming into my lap at the lightest of touches, I’m going to have to throw you out the window.

Seriously. This is just plain ridiculous! It’s not like I have heavy fingers or a tendency to throw my full body weight into my wrists. So back off my lap already. You’re hurting me. Just quit it already.

Life Lesson #40: Work is work. It sucks. But unless I win the Mega Millions or find me some Sugar Daddy on the side, I have little choice but to show up Monday thru Friday. So I might as well try to make the best ofThe New Digs and this whole working-for-the-man thing. It’s all about looking at the bright side: enough free coffee to send me into cardiac arrest, some natural sunlight to glare up my computer monitor and a paycheck that comes, guaranteed, every other week. The Old Office was horrible, but here, there is a chance to make it all better. Fingers crossed everybody. We all know how crazy Penny gets when unemployed.

2 Comments:

Blogger Mjones said...

Dude, don't forget to mention your proximity to Shake Shack!

I'm starting to sound like a really big fat girl.

12:40 PM  
Blogger Penny said...

mjones,

Please; I've already found all the good eateries around this place after the first week.

Oh, who am I kidding. I scoped them out the first two days.

Penny

9:36 AM  

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