I've been working on the railroad

Today on my lunch break, in the 3 miles to my apartment and the 2 miles back to work (Ask me some other time about my new commute.) I passed five construction sites, and that isn't including the one I am working in.

Ah yes, the one where I work...

These days it seems best to begin the search for a restroom fifteen minutes before you might have need of one. Not only do you have to find one that is not currently occupied by workmen installing sinks, but you have to find the set of stairs that is not being carpeted to make your way to the functional bathroom.

And then you hope and pray that no workman needs to enter while you are tucked away in a stall. Although, that might be an okay thing if it means the fancy schmancy light sensor will give you another two minutes before leaving you in the dark.

Yesterday one of the upper management stopped by my desk to ask me what I thought of my new space. I, foolishly but truthfully said, "I don't know... it will take some getting used to." She acted as if I had insulted her dear departed grandma.

It is true that I have about three and a half times the desk space, five times the hanging file space, and a snazzy chair that moves in more directions than I thought there were dimensions, BUT I have no shelf space.

And every time someone walks by my desk (conveniently located at the intersection of Restroom Hallway and Main Thoroughfare) I have to ask the most difficult question known to humankind "Do I make small talk or pretend that I am so focused I don't see them?"

And then there is the hammering and drilling and construction-style vacuuming and clanging and the odd assortment of bodily noises you might expect of a team of construction workers on the job only everything is amplified and made echo-y in the great dome of the ceiling.

Multiple times in the last two days I have had the unquenchable urge to burst out into "I've been working on the railroad, all the live-long day!" I think it has something to do with the hollow echoing of the hammering.

But I do wonder, when the fumes of new plaster and glue come to play at my desk, what sort of songs will I find to sing?

Comments

Unknown said…
lucy in the sky with diamonds?

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