Never look for the truth in your mother’s eyes

So my office moved over the weekend.

Heh, not so exciting in the grand scheme of things, so I shall commence with the long-winded back story henceforth.

The company that provides my day job has several offices in Canada and the US, one being, obviously, the Portland office in which I spend my day. The Portland office was a sublet situation. Canadians, I’ve discovered, are notoriously frugal individuals, and will put up with all sorts of things to save a buck. They also like to drink a lot of beer, but that’s a blog post or two for another time.

So, in the interest of frugality, the Portland office was a sublease of three offices and a large room from an engineering firm downtown. Conditions were very spartan. Those of us in the big room used folding tables as desks. We didn’t have filing cabinets or drawers to keep project files or store our personal stuff. When I started there, we sat in these old chairs that must have been meant for a conference room. If you sat in them for longer than an hour at a time, which was most of the time for us, you’d end up with a sore back. Because the room was open, every annoying habit you had or your coworkers had was open for ridicule, not publicly, of course, but over a pint or three at the bar after work. Generally not the best environement for productivity. I like the people I work with, annoying habits aside, but the situation would get so intolerable at times I seriously thought about quitting.

The only saving grace was the flexibilty I had to work from home. We all took advantage of it. Otherwise, I think we would have killed each other in ways that would have made the Branch Davidians look like pussies.

To quote the wise man, Ron White, I tell you all of that to tell you this.

We moved into a newer, bigger office over the weekend. Now, rather than 8 people crammed into a single room, we have 2 people each in four offices. Monday was a good day. I walked in my office, MY OFFICE. Those two words never sounded so good. But even the fact that I have a office with a door I can close wasn’t all that made me happy. No, it was the silverware.

What was really funny about this move was the recognition of the little things we sacrificed at the other office. We didn’t have our own kitchen, our own refrigerator, our own SILVERWARE. I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to see it stocked full of beer. I remarked to a coworker how I thought that was a well stocked fridge. He took me back to the kitchen and gave me a proper tour.

He opened all of the cabinets in turn. Each was filled with wonderful treats. One had cookies, one aspirin and such, another had new glasses and cups, the last plates. As he opened each in turn, my exclamations, yes EXCLAMATIONS, of joy became more ferfent and loud. I could not believe such bounty could ever exist outside of my own home ever again.

He saved the best for last. He opened a drawer to reveal NEW silverware. Our silverware. Slowly and referently I reached down and took a fork and held it up for inspection. It was as if we were the ape creatures in 2001:A Space Odyssey, clustered around the Monolith. After admiring its new shiny finish, untouched by hand or dishwasher, I let out a sigh and softly set it back in its place in the drawer.

I walked back to my office, content.