Who wants a filing cabinet?

I love natural light and windows. I would’ve thought that goes without saying for everybody, but Captain seems unimpressed by windows.

On my first day in the office, I’m shown to my cube. It is as I feared. I cannot see a window. If I stand up and stretch I can see a window in the distance. A five foot tall person would not be so lucky.

The first hour goes by. The fluorescent light directly above my desk feels like it’s piercing my eyeballs and stabbing my brain. This is not going to work. I examine my cube. There’s some space, a filing cabinet full of unexplained files that do not belong to me and a chair. My desk appears to be from a Communist era building. It’s ginormous and looks impenetrable. Even if I can move it, I’m not sure there’s enough space to turn it around. I resolve to deal with it in a week.

Two days later I march into work with my tape measure. I measure the length of the desk and I measure the smallest part of the cube it needs to turn around in. It’s going to work! As long as I can lift it. I know I could ask someone for help, but I barely know anybody AND I don’t want to risk anyone telling me no.

I squat, grab underneath one end of the desk and heave. It moves an inch. I can lift it! And it’s going to take forever. It only takes 20 minutes, but that is a long time when you’re doing hard manual labor in business casual.

It is a million times better. The only odd thing is that there was a permanent cabinet that stuck out over my desk, so it now sticks out over nothing. It’s just low enough that if I lean too far back in my desk chair I bonk my head. This has only happened twice and is still better than fluorescent light daggers in my eyeballs.

I turned my desk around but I only moved it two feet from where it was before. You’d think this might have gone unnoticed. Oh no. Everyone keeps stopping by my cube,

“Oh wow, you moved the desk.”

“Look at your desk!”

“I like what you did.”

“Did you move the desk?”

I did.

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