Today was moving day! Not another moving day for me (thank goodness), but moving day for the office.
While I have several nagging worries about the new building (mostly having to do with me still getting to Crossfit on time after work and who I will be sitting near when we move), it will at least have WINDOWS. Many of them, so I hear. Maybe I won’t turn into a pale cubicle zombie this winter after all!
Actually, I lied about moving day; it’s really tomorrow. Today was packing day, and since I was one of maybe three people at work who do not have a looming deadline this week, I did lots of extra packing. Not that I minded.
In fact, I was secretly pleased for the change of pace. Whenever I’m doing a potentially boring task for long periods of time, I entertain myself by pretending that it’s my official job—like, if I’m cooking, I’m a chef; if I’m mowing, I’m a mower (landscaper? I’ve never paid anybody to do this, so I don’t actually know what they’re called); and if I’m packing I’m a mover. I try to do everything as deftly and efficiently as possible and act like I totally know what I’m doing.
I know, It doesn’t make ANY sense, since if I actually did any of these things as a job I would be sick of them, and probably I would like doing them much LESS than I do now. But, since when has the way my brain works made any sense?
At any rate, I had fun going around all day practicing for my future career change as a mover. However, a few aspects of my work might prevent anyone from hiring me to move their office. Or their morgue (don’t ask). Here are some things I now know (or suspect) about movers:
Movers are able to take simple instructions, without needing a demonstration.
Usually, the fact that I ask a zillion questions or need to be shown things multiple times is not so bizarre, because I do semi-complex tasks at work that might actually be a little confusing. But really, I should be able to follow directions like, “Put this stuff into the bin and label it,” without interrogating the person directing me.
Movers can write the number 5 legibly on a label so that others do not later mistake it for an S.
I do know what a five is shaped like. I just struggle to recreate that shape on paper, okay? I don’t know why, but I have major handwriting issues when it comes to the number 5, or the capital letter E.
Movers are taller than a measly 5’4” so they can reach things on top shelves. Without climbing.
Movers do not eat FOUR pieces of pizza for lunch and then feel kind of ill and a lot less like moving anything afterward.
I can’t help it. I got a little overexcited when my super cool boss bought pizza for the whole office. I haven’t had pizza in a very long time. And this was FREE pizza. I was a lot less productive after lunch.
Movers wear pants that do not fall down every time they bend over, or if they do, they also wear belts.
I was so enthusiastic about the fact that we were allowed to wear casual clothes to work for two days, that I didn’t think about WHY we were wearing them (like, uh, maybe the fact that we were going to be bending over and crawling under desks to reach plugs and things). I spent ALL DAY pulling my pants back up, and I’m sure everyone still got to see more of me than they were comfortable with.
Movers do not repeatedly bang expensive computers/monitors/printers against the wall while carrying them.
Based on meeting the actual movers at the end of the day, I also discovered that movers aren’t women (at least none of ours were), so apparently a career change is not in the cards for me after all.
On the bright side, I found two plates in the kitchen that I’m 95% sure belonged to me. So I stuck them in my bag and took them home, and now I’m 100% sure they belong to me.
Also, I got to show off my Crossfit lifting skills and demonstrate that I could lift more than half the guys at work. I think they were judging me for being kind of manly, but it still made me happy. 😀