—subject line of an email
And (True or false?) don’t we all adore perfection?
I’ve been waking up when I do get up these days
with a groggy head. With brain fog (isn’t that already
a blast from the past?). With not-a-morning-person
head. And I am a morning person. At least when I
have the structure of a job. And I’ve had a thirty year
career as an executive assistant. Granted, I had no idea
one might have a career as a glorified secretary when I
one might have a career as a glorified secretary when I
was first seated at a desk with a nameplate that an
nounced to the unfortunate folks who might encounter
me that this was who I was. That this is who I am. But
it is. And I’m not even the least bit cubicle-resistant. Nor
am I cubicle-dependent. In fact, I can happily take any
space around 4 x 5 feet and turn it into a pleasant work
space. Most days. Just not this morning. And the reason
is simple. It’s because for the last year, I’ve had no
cubicle of residence. Meaning I’ve had no semblance
of daily structure at all. And when that happens, I
gravitate toward being a night owl. Which I find
torturous. So for most of four years I’ve had but one
residence and no official office or employer. In fact,
this is barely a residence, my home-away-from-work.
It’s tiny. It’s cheap. And it requires an extraordinary
amount of work just to maintain. Chalk that up as
another reason I’ve no home of employment at present.
Truth be told, it’s been longer than a year. My last job,
like that ones I’ve had over the past decade, was a
temporary job, a contractual obligation. But I did have
an entire office to myself. One that upon entering or exiting
I could lock. One that was mine and only mine. So, during
my so-called successful and lengthy career I’ve only ever
had one real office that was singularly mine. And while,
in general, I’d much prefer the illustrious career of a
person who performs his duties from a cubicle to one
who does so in a spacious office for one with a beautiful
view and an actual door, given the fact that it is usually
the executives I support who have these, it was a joy
having one for those three months of contractual labor.
And speaking of temporary employment, which I unex
pectedly found myself niched into starting a decade ago,
in much the same way I randomly found myself ensconced
within a career that has at least intermittently given me
no small amount of success and financial independence.
And since I’ve given back to it a right goodly amount of
success, I’m flummoxed over whatever the reason(s) are
that I have no job at present. And I’ve never worked
trying to nab one. At least since I left that last, lovely
but temporary gig in which I had an actual office; full-
time permanent work, that is. So I’ve simply refused to
even look at temp positions this past year. But look at me
now. Sigh. I suppose that all this has been a way to say that
I should shut up and get back to the business of finding
a new cubicle of residence. Or perhaps I should run for
office. President Cubicle, perhaps? My chances might be
just as good landing that job. But, if I’m being honest,
that might just be another way to draw out the time be
