We moved offices yesterday. It went surprisingly smoothly, undoubtedly helped by the fact that all I had to be moved was a computer and two Occupational Health & Safety Approved-sized boxes (accept no substitute!) of papers, stationery and miscellaneous junk. A stark contrast to my house move last year.
No waiting around for the boxes to show up at the new office, either. We were instructed to take the afternoon off, which suited me fine as it happens. I went and sunned myself on the beach. Actually no I didn’t, I ran some errands, then went home early and vegged. Upon arrival at work this morning I found the whole kit and kaboodle on or around my desk, all intact, even my coffee mug.
Time will tell whether the move is good or bad (not like I had any choice in the matter – some managers somewhere with a chessboard nudge a ruler and shove a pile of pawns across the board, and we all get relocated), but so far my impressions are:
Location: Now in Collins Street, it’s added a few minutes added to the commute. But it’s a much livelier location, teeming with people. In the vicinity are locations aplenty to dispose of any errant money that may be skulking in my wallet.
Building: A curious blend of art-deco foyer, very slow lifts (Mr Otis could do some renovation work here; in fact one is midway through some work, and has canvas with some very dodgy graffiti over it) and a vast open plan office full of lots of other people that reminds me a little of a 21st century version of the Crimson Permanent Assurance. You need a key to get to the toilet, which obviously keeps the riff-raff out because it’s all gleaming marble and chrome.
View: Not nearly as good as the old spot, which provided a splendid vista over olde Melbourne towne. But not as awful as I suspected it might be. Being only on the 8th floor now, I thought there might be a bunch of hulking great skyscrapers blocking the view. Fortunately, they’re far enough away that they’re almost picturesque (in a big city kind of way) rather than merely blocking out all the natural light. Through one window you can see the Arts Centre Spire.
Other than that, it’s just your average city office, though for something a little bit different, there is a fishtank by the door. With fish in it. Living fish. And a silver inflatable alien that one of my colleagues has on her desk.