As per my regular complaints, my job consists of a self-rigged one that I run from my office/guest bedroom. My work uniforms are sweats, and Monday through every-other Friday I can be found drinking gallons of tea and fighting early onset carpal tunnel. But now my job also comes with a literal park view and more natural light than my pale skin knows what to do with. Sure the move came some serious changes, like locating all my dinosaur figurines before I could continue working, but other than books looking for their correct decimal order or the lost glitter dino, it’s back to usual.
In her next film Miss Deville should be an example of how smoking can ruin a personality.
…or so logic would have me believe. Technology has other plans. Instead my second screen is in constant sleep mode, internet speeds are hitting a regular .14 MG (how am I supposed to watch Parks and Rec on my lunch break, guys?), and cell phone service is spottier than a Dalmatian rolling dice.
There’s about three sections throughout the house where I can make calls inconsistently, each is a 2X2’ radius, and sudden movements (or breathing) cause static and muted conversations, though 90 percent of the time it just drops the call altogether.
Supposedly there’s a signal booster that will help fix this problem – and lets face it, I can’t avoid my clients forever – but my service provider has yet to get back with me. Sure it’s annoying driving up a hill every time I need to interview, but what am I going to do, drive up the hill to call and complain? I’m way too lazy for that.
As for the internet, it did work for three whole days, flawlessly. My shows loaded like lightening and emails zoomed in and out of my inbox. But then Monday came and it couldn’t tell a ping time from sitting and collecting dust. The company said it’s “the equipment,” which they will now replace for free … and I am letting them. If they have to continue replacing the equipment every eight days though, I might offer to rewrite their business plan.
Which now brings us to second screen. It’s 6-years-old and has, apparently, displayed its last Word doc. Forever in “power-save mode,” this trusty guy has been with me since birth (his, not mine), and I guess the move was too much for him. Though I’m not so sad about the screen itself as I am the fact that I have to research and spend money on a new one; single screens are for heathens with Office ‘97.
Other changes since new office
- I bought an oil tray to use as a magnet board. Ladies, if you’re looking for a confidence boost, head to an auto parts store on a rainy afternoon, you’ll turn heads in sweats.
- I can fit into my desk drawers.
- My bank is 30 minutes and as many miles away; depositing has never been more annoying.
One of my recently moved friends said houses have to adjust to the people inside them as much as the other way around. She said this after having 30 feet of sewage piping dug up and re-piped. Maybe instead of plumbing, my cords need replaced. Their old copper casings are rusting through and new PVC versions will keep the sewage in and the dirt out. Surely there’s a good cord plumber in this area … and hopefully one that can be reached by turtle-slow email.