Why is it that the guy with a corner office next to me is also the loudest guy on the floor? I mean, even when measured from outside his office. Loud music has been my saviour in the past few, deadline filled, stressful weeks. If I put my ear plugs in and pump up the music, I can just about drown out his speakerphone conversations (door open, natch).
As I write this, during a momentary lapse of productivity (3:11pm Friday),Powderfinger’s Internationalist is blasting away in both my ears, in an attempt to drown him out. This time he’s not using the speakerphone, but obviously the other half of the conversation is utterly hilarious, judging from the raucous laughter.
Sure, I could complain. But the problem is, he’s senior. Very senior, I’d say. Not only does he have an office, it’s not just an office with windows, it’s a corner office, and one with very good views. By the lifts is a sign pointing to his office. And in one of his loud conversations today, he mentioned a corporate box at the MCG. So to be honest, it intimidates me, a lowly four-day-a-week contractor. I’m not in his department, but have no doubt he could snuff me out like an newt.
I also have, within ten metres of me, a woman with a high pitched laugh, and apparently her colleagues send her jokey e-mails all day, because she’s always laughing while reading her computer screen… and another one who has gone out, left her mobile on her desk, and someone has been trying repeatedly to ring her for the last hour on both phones. How many times before they get the message that she’s not here?
Back to my data matching work…
3:15pm. Seems my colleagues agree with me. They haven’t resorted to loud music yet.
3:35pm. I finally got to AWOL woman’s phone before it stopped ringing. Obviously it was a matter of life and death, yet the guy didn’t want to leave a message.
3:36pm. A minute later she came back. And did I mention that she too suffers from gales of laughter?
Time to pump up the music again.