23 Jan / My life in an orange crate
Today our office packed up every last scrap of officeness into teeny tiny orange crates so that we can move.
That is, the crates were coloured orange, not that they were originally purposed for the carrying of oranges.
BTW a fascinating fact is that orange, the colour, was named after the fruit. Not the fruit after the colour. Well, it was fascinating to me. If it doesn’t rock your world you can skip ahead to the next part.
We’ve been getting ready for this for a while. The person who would usually be responsible for the transition of our entire department chose these two weeks to go away on leave. This left the task firmly in the hands of someone who was ill-equipped to add the transitioning to her never-ending task list of minion nonsense.
No! Not me. I just sat back and watched with glee.
I did have to organise and oversee the packing up of my own team. I fulfilled this task by going to Auckland yesterday and leaving them to it. Then, today, I walked around and ticked off things on a list. Not to ensure they’d done them, although that was the ostensible purpose, but to see what I’d forgotten to do for myself.
So now, every last little piece of my office life is in a crate somewhere. It makes me feel a combination of tired and carefree. Like I could pick up and run to a new country, and a new life, except I can’t be bothered to get out of bed.
There was a lot of grumbling taking place in the office today. Some tasks which were obviously assigned to some people, ended up being done by others. Then further tasks were delegated. Then all. Then those funny little groups started to form in the parts of the office which weren’t already full of orange-ness. Water cooler talks, sans water coolers. Lots of fun. Must get me some more of those.
So a high level of aggravation fueled the last few hours, while staff discovered that they’d packed away the things they should be working on next, and unpacked, only to have to pack again because that used up all of the time they had left in the day.
The funniest thing is knowing that I get a ringside seat at the reverse of this particular attraction on Monday. Unpacking orange crates. Then six weeks on a strange floor (did I not mention our office move was up one floor?) and then we’ll get to repack and reunpack all over again.
By the end of that it will all be old hat. Some people may perish. I hope if it’s me it’s from laughter.