Elan Morgan is a writer and web designer who works from Elan.Works, a designer and editor at GenderAvenger, and a speaker who has spoken across North America. They believe in and work to grow both personal and professional quality, genuine community, and meaningful content online.

Things I Like About My New Job

Things I like about my new job:
  • I share an office with a co-worker, but she has been on vacation since I started and will be for another week-and-a-half. This means that I have time to settle in without feeling like I’m being watched or having the pressure of trying to fit myself into the social dynamics of close quarters right off the bat. I did meet her briefly on my first day, and she seemed nice, but it’s good to have some settling in time (more like-making-mistakes-that-no-one-has-to-know-about-because-they’re-not-in-an-office-with-me-time) before she gets back from vacation.
  • Having the office to myself means that I can putter around getting my office into my kind of order and perusing files and figuring out how to program my telephone and hunt down those elusive letter-size manila file folders. Where the hell are all the office supplies I was promised? Staples? I don’t need no freaking staples!
  • No one here minds if I listen to music quietly in my office. That combined with having the place to myself means that I can listen to internet radio stations featuring hits from the 1920s to the 1950s without annoying a single soul. Ah, Cab Calloway. Hey, I'm also wearing a brown cardigan. Last weekend I thought I had all the signs of turning into an eighty-year-old woman, but maybe I am actually morphing into an elderly man. I am going to take up pipe smoking and insist that my name is Ernest. I'll use Rogaine on my eyebrows to affect the hirsute brows of the aged.
  • I have a window in my office, and it's not just any kind of window. I am on the ground floor, and the window starts at upper thigh level, it goes up for about six feet, and it is five feet wide. It's huge, and my desk is right under it. There's another one beside it on the same wall. When I worked in the bookstore, there was not one single window in the main part of the store. Some days it felt like it was the middle of the night for all the natural light I would see. What I can see right now, and it totally rocks that I can see stuff outside while I type this: a big white cement truck, five parked motorcycles, a jogger, a fat parking security guy with a limp and a pad of paper, trees branches switching about in the wind, cars driving, landscaper's landscaping, blue sky with a few blurry-looking clouds, and a gopher stuffing his face with grass.
  • The gophers outside my window make my day. I think there are two of them making a home together, and they are forever busy busy busy. The larger of the two is often right outside my window stuffing huge amounts of grass into his mouth. He pulls rapidly at the lawn with his teeth, stopping occasionally to push it further into his jaws with his little gopher hands. He does this on and off throughout the day, racing back and forth to his hole just out of my view. The woman who had this position before me left me half a bag of hamster food for the gophers when she cleared out the desk of her stuff. She is a softie for even the lowliest creatures just like me.
  • This morning, my office was fucking freezing. It's August, and yet I found myself shivering in a cardigan and chugging hot coffee in an effort to keep warm. This doesn't sound like a reason to like my new position's position, does it? Well, get this: I have a personal thermostat in my office. It's true. When I checked it this morning, it was turned all the way down to 14oC(57.2oF), and all I had to do was get up, walk over to the little box on the wall, and adjust the temperature up to something reasonable. I have rarely had this luxury in most of the apartments I have lived in and never in a work space, so I feel kind of decadent. Like my office chair should be upholstered in red velvet and there should be a masseuse on staff that I can call on.
  • Everyone here seems really nice so far. Everyone keeps asking how I'm doing and if I have any questions that need answering and whatnot. It's fabulous. It's like I'm a person again that people see and talk to and give a shit about. It's kind of cool. This is not depressing that I feel gratitude for this. This is thrilling. Being treated like a human being is thrilling. I don’t lie awake at night dreading the impending morning and all the petty and not-so-petty slights that I have to look forward to. I don’t come home with a five or ten-minute rant to the Fiery One about how unbelievable it is that people can treat one another that way and how sick all my co-workers are. I don’t question whether or not I must be a truly graceless social moron with little in the way of worthwhile qualities because my co-workers have not deigned to say my name to me in weeks.


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