Notes from the Bev-Cave

After I spent the morning Monday pinballing around amongst various offices and delivering rants to anyone willing (or unwilling) to listen, I finally persuaded the Powers That Be to look away from their paperwork and toward my unfinished office, at which point the campus was suddenly beset by an outbreak of the passive voice. Mistakes were made, I was told. The office will be painted on Monday. The floor will be stripped and waxed on Wednesday. The boxes will be moved on Friday.

And they were.

For three years I've been blessed with a wonderful office in the library, the best part being the big beautiful windows that let in lots of light and reveal a pleasing view. I may never have an office that nice so I'm grateful I inhabited it for a while.

My new office, on the other hand, is in the basement of a much older building. The ceilings are high and the one small window is so far out of reach that it would be appropriate in a dungeon. I had the walls painted a cheery yellow to counteract the cavelike ambiance, but I'm not sure it's working. I ought to play up the cave motif, painting the walls the color of moss and rocks and mold and bats and calling the place the Bev-Cave, but one day someone would come in and find me curled up on the floor in a fetal position, so maybe not a good idea.

I'm trying to embrace my new office because I may be here for a while. Unless things change in a pretty big way, I don't foresee seeking other offices in the near or even distant future, and I hate the process of moving so much that I'd rather stay in a cave than pack everything up again. So here I sit surrounded by boxes of books and trying to make the Bev-Cave feel like home.