As seen from under the desk
Trained by tradition to kneel for prayer, I’m able to handle one of the downsides of my job.
You see, I support computer users. And, for reasons that escape me, those users want their precious computer to be hidden away, under the desk. Guess what? That’s where the dust bunnies hang out. Something to do with the lack of light. For the last few days, I’ve been swapping old and slow for new and speedy, and right now I’m in recuperation mode. Aches; back, knees, thighs. Blame it on age if you must, but I did spend time under at least fifteen desks in the last couple of days.
In a better world, we’d put the computer on the desk, and the user underneath. Especially the ones that lack patience in the process, and wonder why you don’t want to spend lunch hour dealing with their particular needs. Actually, I do, but the blame lies with me for silly devotion to the cause.
Someone else noted that you’ll be missed (in the average office) for about five seconds, should you resign or retire. We’re all replaceable, even if our ego misleads us. Go ahead, do the test. Try to remember who sat in that chair, two people ago. In some cases, the chair isn’t there any more; downsizing through attrition is the politically correct name.
Seen (with my future glasses on), the retired individual doesn’t care. I can count, on spread fingers, the number of people who have returned to visit after getting away from the cubicle farm. Missed; works both ways.
