- 6 years ago
I just learned last night that my office mate and I, whom I’ve grown to love and have an amazing friendship with, will be separated on Thursday to accomodate our growing department and offer a “better work flow”. I will be moved out of our office into another smaller, “double” office, and placed with a new hire.
As often happens with friendships, we have a lot of fun. We do lunch together, we have a basketball hoop on our door, we have an office fish, and so on. I know that we talk a lot, but we always get our work done, and we work extremely well together. That being said, I had to go and ask my boss what was up. I was feeling like a child being put in timeout without even being told what I did wrong.
He assured me that it was a strictly business strategical move as I was the best candidate to help our new hire (who hasn’t been hired yet – please no smelly old men) get situated. I don’t know how the hell I always pigeon-hole myself into this role. Even at my last job I was the go-to girl, and designated trainer because I knew my shit, and could communicate efficiently.
Whatever – I’m still upset. And so is my office mate. I nearly cried. I was up all night trying to wrap my brain around the logistics of how we are going to fit two desks in there, and if the new hire will be awful. I’m already panicked about moving my office and now my OCD/neurosis is kicking in and I’m already thinking of some awful desk configuration where my back is to the door, or where the new person will sit and creep on my screen, the list goes on and on…
As if that wasn’t bad enough? My office mate also had to put down her cat last night after a very troublesome several years, we’re getting separated, and now we will have to figure out custody of our office fish.