9.25.2002
The funny thing about calculators is that the teachers use computational aids for their work all the time, and think nothing of it. None of them are scratching away on a blackboard in the stereotypical manner associated with mathematicians. They are writing computer programs and watching their IM client for quick flirts from the professor down the hall.
Applekid.... Dilbert cartoons are going to take on a whole new meaning to you now that you are entering cubicle land. I had a cubicle back in the day when I worked for the State of Alaska. I didn't expect the whole business structure to adhere so closely to Dilbert, but it does. I didn't really like cubicles, though. Here is a tip that I wish I had done when I first started. Arrange your space so that you are facing out into whatever passage or cavern that runs past you. Turn your computer monitor so it is facing you. I got certifiably paranoid (seriously) about the way I had mine set up. I always felt like I was being crept up on. I was afraid to check my email because it would look like I wasn't working and was just playing on my computer. In reality, I WAS working, just that I was afraid of appearances. I finally spent more time looking over my shoulder at every noise in the room than looking at my monitor. So, take my advice and turn so you can see everyone before they sneak up on you.
It may give you the jump on the disgruntled co-worker who brings a sawed off shotgun to work to teach everyone a lesson. You could have your own taped under the center drawer of your desk, just in case. It is better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. REMEMBER THAT.
In all actuality you will probably die from a sugar overdose from all the cubicle land office parties before any violence. A slow, miserable death-reaper that creeps upon you from behind and wraps its cold, cake-frosting slathered hands about your throat. Welcome him. Embrace him.
Birthdays, goings-away, births, deaths, bad hair days, good hair days, promotions, pet deaths, pet births, getting the paper jammed in the copy machine again, and even just random I-need-a-party excuses will fill your day to the point where you will wish to scream at everyone to get back to work just for something else to think about. But you will find yourself drawn irresistably to the thin, oversweet and brightly decorated Messenger of Doom. Resistance truly IS futile.
Maybe I ran into it more because I worked in a government facility (the DOT). We should have gotten hazard pay, I swear. :)
nighty night all
jeff
Applekid.... Dilbert cartoons are going to take on a whole new meaning to you now that you are entering cubicle land. I had a cubicle back in the day when I worked for the State of Alaska. I didn't expect the whole business structure to adhere so closely to Dilbert, but it does. I didn't really like cubicles, though. Here is a tip that I wish I had done when I first started. Arrange your space so that you are facing out into whatever passage or cavern that runs past you. Turn your computer monitor so it is facing you. I got certifiably paranoid (seriously) about the way I had mine set up. I always felt like I was being crept up on. I was afraid to check my email because it would look like I wasn't working and was just playing on my computer. In reality, I WAS working, just that I was afraid of appearances. I finally spent more time looking over my shoulder at every noise in the room than looking at my monitor. So, take my advice and turn so you can see everyone before they sneak up on you.
It may give you the jump on the disgruntled co-worker who brings a sawed off shotgun to work to teach everyone a lesson. You could have your own taped under the center drawer of your desk, just in case. It is better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. REMEMBER THAT.
In all actuality you will probably die from a sugar overdose from all the cubicle land office parties before any violence. A slow, miserable death-reaper that creeps upon you from behind and wraps its cold, cake-frosting slathered hands about your throat. Welcome him. Embrace him.
Birthdays, goings-away, births, deaths, bad hair days, good hair days, promotions, pet deaths, pet births, getting the paper jammed in the copy machine again, and even just random I-need-a-party excuses will fill your day to the point where you will wish to scream at everyone to get back to work just for something else to think about. But you will find yourself drawn irresistably to the thin, oversweet and brightly decorated Messenger of Doom. Resistance truly IS futile.
Maybe I ran into it more because I worked in a government facility (the DOT). We should have gotten hazard pay, I swear. :)
nighty night all
jeff
< 22:16 >< /j >
