doomed: the diary of an hourly partner

24th floor

this week i experienced my first office party. a cake was ordered, happy birthday was sung, and a handful of girls stood around talking about the weekend and eating cake that tasted like a ho-ho. i didn't chime in, i didn't try and make friends, i just stood and ate my cake.

this office work is bizarre. events like the cake incident and quirky days to look forward to (popcorn wednesday, jeans friday) actually exist. to me, it was all some sitcom situation, some movie exagerration.

but these people actually sit around in cubicles all day. i read a profile on a woman who has worked for the company for 26 years. i didn't know people did that anymore. it's hard seeing all of these people, mostly women, with their backs turned from the huge picture windows, their faces aimed at a flickering neon screen. when i go down to accounting on the 22nd floor, it's the same thing only, if it's possible, with more cubicles.

i don't mind the work, it's easy enough once you get the hang of it. i just can't imagine anyone caring about any of this. my mind doesn't work in numbers and accounts. i don't even know what i do, i don't know what i'm talking about when i have to call customers asking if they use BAAN or warehouse BOSS. what are they customers of? what am i talking about?

thank goodness it's jeans friday.

posted by kate @ 7:23 AM