Given the circumstances of Typhoid Mildred’s recent departure, people have been more restrained than usual in their cube plundering.
Usually the vultures descend quickly and start scooping up staplers, rulers, mousepads – anything that isn’t bolted to the floor.
Of course it’s just a matter of time. Once someone makes a move and unplugs her desk fan, all bets are off.
The larger issue will be who gets Mildred’s cube. It has indirect light and a partial view of a corner of a window, so in Hamish terms, it’s a very desirable piece of real estate.
Word is that the lobbying for her cube has already started on the QT. Innocent emails of inquiry to Clark and casual hints dropped at the water fountain.
It’s kind of creepy. Her seat isn’t even cold yet.
While I have no intention of claiming a stake (it’s a fixer up ‘er and likely haunted) I do have an interest in who gets it.
My worse case scenario has Otto moving in. Or Farook. Or Mike. In fact, when I think about it, there’s no one in the office that I can imagine being able to co-exist with for any length of time. I’m not sure what that says about them – or me.
I might be okay with a photocopier. It’s hard to say. They can be noisy and draw a crowd.
Mildred wasn’t the most engaging neighbour but she was quiet, professional and made me laugh. Plus, she kept other people out of our corner of the office. And she made me tea once.
Oh. My. God… I miss Mildred!