The Dreaded Move

The place where I work is selling the building. I’m not sure to whom they are selling yet, but word is they have a buyer. There are 5 floors to the building, plus a basement. The first three floors are going to be leased by my company and the top 2 floors will be occupied with whomever the buyers want to put there. That means I have to move, because I’m on the 4th floor. I have known this for about a year, but things are finally going to be moving along, probably next month.

The thing is, upon hearing the news we would be moving spots and downgrading our offices, I didn’t care. I was like, so what? My office is going to be smaller. That’s okay. It’s pretty big right now. I can take a smaller office. Now that we have an actual floor plan of where we’re moving to, I’m kind of annoyed. My office is going to be way smaller. Even smaller than Brian’s, when before my office was bigger than his boss’s office. That is how much I’m downgrading. Plus, they are cramming us in this little tiny spot. All of us. Crammed. Now I don’t like to speak unkindly about my co-workers, because I just don’t. Unless of course you work with me, then I would tell you all the horrible things they do on a daily basis, but you don’t work with me. Your strangers to my work place and probably wouldn’t understand my frustration. But, let me tell you, some of the people I work with do not have pleasant dispositions. Now, I’m going to be scrunched together and have a little tiny office with less walls. There’s practically nothing standing between me and them. It’s horrible.

Let me give you a few examples of how my life is going to be tortured. First, the woman that sits next to me right now is somewhat demanding. When I say somewhat I really mean very. Anyway, she has a tendency to speak to me loudly over our office/cube walls. Okay, she yells at me. Usually when she does this I just get up and leave and hide in the bathroom until I think she might forget about whatever it is she was going to tell me. She can’t see me leave because we have the walls. She just thinks I wasn’t in my office when she was yelling at me. When we move, I won’t have this luxury. She’ll see me if I try and leave. She’ll be able to harass me at her leisure.

Another woman that I don’t sit by now, thank God, but am suppose to sit right next to after the move is even worse. She is the biggest complainer about every little thing, like people talking to another and having fun and she talks on the phone constantly. Loud. And she is mean to those people on the phone. Plus, I don’t want her knowing any of my business. She has been known to try to sabotage people because she wants their job. I’m not kidding. She is one of those people. I didn’t even believe they existed until I met her. She also has decided to nickname me “momma”. Ever since I told people I was pregnant she has called me “momma”. Listen, I am not your “momma”. Do not call me that. No one calls me that. Not even my kids. I find it completely tasteless. Brian thinks it would be funny if she called him “daddy”. I told him not to make me puke. Anyway, I don’t want to share a wall with her. That’s all I’m saying.

However, I might be saved. My friend, who is in another department that works closely with mine made the suggestion that perhaps I should be sitting with them. I do work with them all the time and it might make more sense. Then, I wouldn’t have to worry about either of the women that I’m worried about.

You see why I don’t like to complain about my co-workers? It makes me sound petty, which I totally am. So there. You learn something new every day. It’s just, when it comes to them, there is only so much a person can take before they go insane. I really hope the latter arrangement works out. I hope, I hope, I hope…