the cube.

No, not the movie 'The Cube', although I actually liked it. This is a picture of where I reside 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. No one I know has ever seen my cubicle. I'm not under lockdown-but if you want to see past the lobby, a visitor badge must be issued (unless you want to bring your unbelievably annoying toddlers in there and interrupt everyone's concentration) and, really, it's just too much trouble. There's nothing interesting to see-except my cubicle. I've been at my current employer for a little under 2 years and the oldtimers like to visit the cube and check out all of the crap I have accrued. I figure if I have to stay somewhere for 8 hours, it may as well look like home. The plant has taken over the other 2 cubes on each side of mine since this photo was taken. There are also alot more pictures and articles pinned to the walls. The distraction keeps me from falling asleep-sometimes. Alot of times I imagine pulling a George Costanza.

The contents of my cube are a mixed bag. Photos of friends, family, my cats and a couple of Jamie Cullum and I. I keep the Jamie pictures there so all of the women that have worked there for 15+ years will come by and ask "Is that your boyfriend? He's cute!" For a second, I want to say "Yes it is-he's on tour right now. Maybe when he gets back, I'll bring him in to meet everyone." Instead I say "No, he's a musician I met a couple of times. I'm just a big fan." Then I proceed to tell them who he is. They've never heard of him. There is also a picture of Jerry and I. I've had several ask if he's my boyfriend, also. No, I reply, he's one of my best friends. And he's gay. That shuts them up real quick. I think I'm the only single person working there, besides Renita. So when I went out on a date with some guy I met on the internet (it was a complete flop and a big mistake, but that's another story) everyone HAD to know how it went. I think these women believe you have to get married to survive. Some want to set me up with a friend of a friend of a friend and I just can't deal.

Other miscellaneous crap in my cube: pictures of Wentworth Miller, Dave Grohl, Trey Parker & Matt Stone, David Sedaris, Colin Firth & Emma Thompson, Steve Correll, Dave Chappelle and a card with some chinese kids on it-some magnets from various people-a few paperback books in case I need to read on my lunch break-a bunch of Star Wars toys from Burger King, along with a Wampa Star Wars Buddy-an enlarged, mounted X Men comic book cover of Rogue and Gambit-the Little Shop of Horrors plant that was given to me and has grown out of control-and, finally, a large action figure of a repelling Lara Croft and the yeti trying to mame her. The life saver that is my radio/cd player is stuck in the corner on my desk. It's set to NPR and whenever it rains, the reception sucks and I either listen to some awful local station or, if the batteries aren't dead, I'll listen to my MP3 player. It's hard to drown out the big mouth that sits behind me, but I manage. Sometimes it's just mind over matter.

So there is my exciting work life. The actual cubicle itself is more exciting than my job. And I have a cold. It always happens either on a holiday or when I go on vacation. I just hope I can taste the food I 'm going to stuff down my throat tomorrow.