Office politics are part of work life. All the books say the same thing: Favoritism exists. Cliques exist. Suck it up. But I say there is another way: Build a cedar closet. Actually build is a misnomer. The closet is already built. You just line it with cedar. All you need is board, a saw, and nails. You can tangle with those mothers as long as this weekend project takes. It could be months. Cedar boards are thin as popsicle sticks: they crack and split. And saw can mean hand-saw or circular saw or jig saw or even saw-saw. And hammer can mean drill or brad nailer. Just the names bring me out in a cold sweat.You’re in a closet, building your own coffin in a sense, fighting for your life. Your face is smacked against 130 years of horsehair plaster traumatized by the patchwork technologies of three centuries. You’re creeping over this landscape with a studfinder like a Lunar Roving Vehicle and it’s beeping as if the entire knobbly field is one sheet of plywood electrically charged. It’s an adventure—a tough frontier kind which will eventually yield a space for clothes. What has this to do with office politics? Nothing. It’s just you against entropy, building, keeping your thumbs intact.
2 comments:
Wonderful work& so compelling! I felt sad reading it. There's such a soul crushing monotony in office routine, I think.
Wonderful work & so compelling! I felt sad reading it. There's such a soul crushing monotony in office life
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