Office Space

Have you ever been in the zone at work – banging away at your business, no one is more productive than you right now in this moment and then suddenly, you’re derailed. EEEERRRRRRRR! Your flow comes to a screeching halt as something has thwarted your path to a completed to-do-list.

I believe productivity in the workplace is inhibited not by Facebook, Pinterest or eBay (do people still eBay?) but by the nuisances of others. We should all have our own offices. No cubicles or shared workspaces. Here’s why:

Food wrappers: Why does it seem that your co-worker finds it nearly impossible to get chips out of a bag resulting in endless crinkling while they fumble around to nab their next Dorito? Why is it so difficult for them to unwrap candy? Moreover, why do you feel the need to roll up your candy wrapper into a little ball afterwards? Similarly, you don’t need to fold up the extra large paper bag your lunch came in. All the excessive crinkling, crumpling, rustling and shuffling needs to stop! Or…here’s a novel idea…eat in the lunch room so at least your clumsy food wrapper handling is muted and not sailing directly into my ear holes.

Loud chewers: Calm. Down. With the chewing. The food isn’t going anywhere. It’s not animate, it’s not going to jump off the plate and run away (I hope).

The violent crushing of your mandibles while wallowing around bites that are too large for your mouth is bovine and inappropriate. Calm yourself, take smaller bites and maybe think about saving the last 6 inches of your 18 inch sub for a snack tomorrow. I can’t concentrate on writing my blog, this Excel spreadsheet while your sloppy chops are chomping and probably spewing saliva and food all over the place.

--This also includes plate-scrapers, those determined to get every last molecule of food off their lunch plate before calling it good.

Heavy-breathers: I don’t know what causes it but when I’m around a heavy-breather, I feel like they might pass out at anytime and I should keep an eye on them in the event an emergency call needs to be made. And there are times, just like the rest of us, they have a whistler up in that nasal passage of theirs but because they are HBs, the whistling is a touch loud for the office and probably more apropos for…I don’t know…a gymnasium.  It’s like the conscious version of snoring. Baffling yet totally agitating.

Finger-nail clipping:  There is a certain comfort-level that needs to be reached before I’m okay with you clipping your talons in my presence. I don’t appreciate having to dodge the remnants as they get projected across the room – they could take an eye out. I don’t mind you taking care of the occasional catch or sore hangnail. But hearing the constant snip, snip, snip while you clip clip clip away at all ten of your claws makes me squirm (and hope that you don’t continue with your feet). Groom at home, in your car, or the bathroom if you must self-manicure right this second. But I will quit my job the second I find your nail scraps in my hair.  

Finger-tappers: This includes finger-nail tapping for you acrylic lovers. Surely, you must have another nervous habit or pastime that isn’t audible. Leg-bouncing, nail-chewing, chin-rubbing…something. Needless to say, fingers constantly percussing whatever rhythmic pattern your brain is marching to and tap tap tapping away all day, every day is maddening. Am I in Drumline 2: From the Street to the Office? Where’s Nick Cannon? Develop some self-awareness and come to realize that the tune you’re tapping doesn’t sound the same to others as it does to you. You may hear the drum breakdown from Phil Collins’, In the Air Tonight, but to me, it’s a bunch of senseless racket. Pa rum pa rum dumb.

Stinky lunch-eater: Don’t get me wrong. I am an offender. I love eating food that may be unpleasant to the olfactory. A vinegar dressing. Sauerkraut. Fish. Curried something. I’ve also burnt a bag of popcorn or two (one time intentionally because I knew it really bothered someone I didn’t like). Additionally, speaking as a someone who has been through two pregnancies, I can say that the scent of my co-worker’s daily lunch of Thai noodles didn’t sit well with me during the first trimester and as a result, I had to vacate the office before my breakfast vacated my gut.  

Ultimately, we are all office delinquents in some aspect and there is something that each of us does that annoys another. The hope for a universe in which we all have our individual offices and the freedom to shut our doors is unrealistic. Until then, we must appreciate the finer features of cubicle-living like being able to eavesdrop on conversations and personal phone calls, the warm, cozy feeling of community and viewing your neighbor’s web-surfing.

The Jingle Hell Rock

The holidays (Thanksgiving through New Year’s Day) are my favorite time of year. During this time, I love living each day to its fullest (stop saying “You should do that every day!” right now. No one does. Accept it.). This year, the House Kitzmiller was plagued with disease, sickness and medical issues that not even the CDC could explain or cure. It was horrendous and began right around the time I would normally start my festive outlook on life which brings nothing but joy, jubilation and sometimes frolicking. The dark cloud of malady and affliction descended upon us, relentless and fierce, like the holy swarm of locusts. My oldest daughter Kasen suffered first. What seemed to be a standard head cold ravaged her little sinuses and the girl leaked green mucus from her nose for a week. Eden was next. She would look up at me with her tiny, congested head with eyes she could hardly open because of the sinus pressure and say “Hewwo,” (hello) in a voice akin to Kathleen Turner’s. Soon after, Kasen succumbed to a 104 degree fever for four days before it finally gave way to a chest cold and later, a second head cold resulting in a severe inner ear infection. This resulted in two doctors appointments and an ER visit. Eden was next to walk down that same path. Fever, cold, ear infection, antibiotics, two more doctor appointments. Then it inevitably took its choke-hold on me. A bastard viral chest infection and bronchitis which then lead to a sinus infection. After two weeks I surrendered and kept our sixth doctor appointment in half as many weeks. During this time, my husband decided to become unknowingly allergic to all things aspirin. Random allergic reactions in which his eyes and lips would swell ensued. His co-workers probably thought I beat him (which is not entirely false or unrealistic. I am merciless when it comes to Words With Friends). Doctor appointments seven and eight, chalked.

Could it be?  A light at the end of the tunnel? Surely, we must be on the mend. But quicker than you can say, “Flu shots are bullshit,” Kasen vomited all over her bed. And after her system had been cleared via both ends, Eden did the same, only it was all over me as I sat down to eat a Christmas cookie. Eden now gags when I show her a Christmas cookie. Great!!! She associates Christmas cookies with vomiting. Le sigh. This is not what I intended. Eden then became afflicted with a second fever followed by a full-body rash. A few days later, I blew chunks at 5 o’clock in the morning. This brings us to December 22^nd. Three sleeps until Christmas and my family is still battling. The festive season with occasional frolicking has been ruined. We persevered though. We pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps and marched on to Christmas Eve and successfully made all family rounds – despite the horrible cough that Eden developed in a matter of hours which I attributed to her incessant smoking habit and chose to ignore until she puked as a result. In the end, we merely survived Christmas this year. And yet here I sit, still thankful because somewhere, people have children stricken with something much worse than a fever, a head cold, an earache or diarrhea. They may have something an antibiotic can’t cure, something that may never go away, something that might very well prevent them from seeing another Christmas at all. And it is that which reminds me that I need to be grateful and treasure all I have because it is precious and mine.

I hope you all had a wonderful and merry Christmas.  Now where’s the aspirin -- I mean, Tylenol?