An Open Letter To The Open Office

To my coworkers:

It's been a tough earnings season, and I recognize that praise has been in short supply around the office nowadays.

But I'm a people person. I'm all about positive reinforcement, in case you can't tell from my Successories posters. And I think I’ve found something we can get all Oprah about, and that's the fact that we've survived the new and exciting "space management" theory, designed to stuff more people into less square footage and foster the holy trinity of business “ations” – Innovation, Collaboration, and Humiliation. No matter that the practical result has been to make us all feel like a pack of rabid gerbils.

When they started remodeling the floor, I mourned the loss of my office (and my door, speakerphone, and the nice view of the sculpture garden). I listened with while you twentysomething Manhattanites yapped on about how “fun” and “social” the new floor design would be, and how it would encourage the “sharing of ideas.”

I'm getting used to not having a door, or any sort of personal space or privacy. I've purged my computer of my favorite Keanu Reeves screensaver. I've removed all of my office flair so that I don't mess up the prescribed color scheme. I've done pretty much everything that I was told to do to mark my personal space, short of peeing in all of the corners of my cube.

But we can always do better. And by 'we' I mean you. So in the can-do spirit of “continuous optimization,” there are a few pieces of advice that I'd like to share, in the hope that it will make MY life a little less stressful:

1) If I go into one of the private rooms to make a call, do NOT automatically assume that I have a job interview/messy divorce/gynecological problem.

2) On the other hand, if YOU get a call about YOUR job interview/messy divorce/gynecological problem, get at private room, stat. I don’t need to hear the gory details. Let’s preserve the magic by keeping some secrets from each other.

3) Yes, I can hear it when you blast gas. And I’ll be smelling it in ten seconds.

4) The first day you eat a tuna sandwich at your desk, it’s inconsiderate. On day two, it’s cruel. By day three it is considered an act of aggression under NATO rules of engagement. Cease and desist immediately or face complete retaliation, possibly involving some sort of curry.

5) While I understand that the presence of estrogen in my body means that I’m supposed to be a Grey’s Anatomy fan, I’m not. I don’t give two craps about McDreamy and McTrampy or whoever those characters are, so please, save your detailed blow-by-blow recap for email.

6) Pay the points and lock down that interest rate-your credit score is appalling, and you should be damn grateful that you’re getting any sort of loan with the market the way it is today.

7) He is totally cheating on you. Grow a pair and dump the jerk, already. Or at least drink a nice glass of shut the hell up instead of calling all your friends to whine about it.

8) Yes, so-and-so probably WILL get promoted before you do, if there is any justice in this world. She is smart and a hard worker. You are a blame-thrower with anger management issues and an obvious YouTube habit.

Thanks for letting me give my suggestions, and keep up the good work, Comrades of the Cubicle! Monday is fast approaching, and I’m looking forward to the 9:45 Coffee Area Weekend Drunken Hookup Report. Much more exciting than my weekends of soccer games and Costco trips.

Yours Truly,

Manager Mom

P.S. All situations depicted in this post are dramatic exaggerations. Except for the tuna fish eater - whoever you are, I am totally coming after you.