Moving

The office is moving.

Actually we're being annexed. Our office has always been a satellite office; just me, Denny and George. It's quiet, comfortable, and apparently too extravagant, because they're shutting it down and pouring us into the main office.

The other office is much more like a newsroom - bright, no natural light, cramped, loud and everyone is in everyone else's business. There are no cubicles, just one room with a bunch of desks.

I'm less than excited about the move, but I can't change anything about it. Just another reason to dislike my job - like everyone else in the world, I guess.

So that's what I get back to from vacation: "Hey, it's getting colder again here, and your office is closing, and you've been rejected from the University of Toronto, and we're still not going to pay you the money we owe you for your HSA even though you need new glasses, and we're not going to pay you for the stories you finished for a couple more weeks, and hey - here are all these problems with your family's finances and your grandma. WELCOME HOME!"

So I've been grouchy. Now that I'm at the new office I have the option to go to night meetings and count those toward my work week. So the more night meetings I go to, the less time I have to spend in the office. And while it's kind of a trade off - spending my Monday, Tuesday (and infrequently Thursday and Saturday) evenings at city meetings isn't the best, it's preferable to the office.

And the lesson I learned was don't go on vacation because your life sucks when you get back.