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Relocation, relocation, relocation
Monday, June 11th, 2012 10:47 amThe office relocation – ie we are now in the same building, on the same floor, but on the opposite side – happened over the weekend.
I have a desk not unlike my old one, stuck out on the end of the row (only these are adjustable), where people can see what I’m up to when they wander past. On the other hand, this computer seems to be better than my old one, though still not new. The crunch time will be this afternoon at about 4pm. That’s around the time my old one let its mind wander and I could go off for a three course meal while the damned thing caught up with the last line I typed.
I have to get used to the bright light overhead, which reflects off my keyboard. You’d think after x number of years (where x is a very large positive integer) of using a keyboard, that I’d be able to type without watching where I put my fingers, wouldn’t you? Well you’d be wrong. I remain resolutely the two-fingered typist and I have to watch what I am typing as I type it. More to the point, I have to watch my fingers ignore the evidence of my eyes and go to the wrong key more often than not. Still, I can usually type reasonably quickly in this fashion, so it’s not all a complete loss.
The view out of the window is even less beguiling than previously. I can peer out now, not at the comings and goings in M&S, but at a red brick wall with grotty windows with dirty net curtains in them. Someone has a worse office than us.
I have yet to form a view on the local climate1. I was neatly adapted to my old climate, a little less so to this one.
My locker is still across the building and will remain so for the rest of this week. That means that once my Pepsi Max has run out, I shall have to trek over there to get my mug and coffee for later consumption.
This has been an odd move…
1The air-conditioning in this building is such that each block of desks has its own climate and each desk a micro-climate.
I have a desk not unlike my old one, stuck out on the end of the row (only these are adjustable), where people can see what I’m up to when they wander past. On the other hand, this computer seems to be better than my old one, though still not new. The crunch time will be this afternoon at about 4pm. That’s around the time my old one let its mind wander and I could go off for a three course meal while the damned thing caught up with the last line I typed.
I have to get used to the bright light overhead, which reflects off my keyboard. You’d think after x number of years (where x is a very large positive integer) of using a keyboard, that I’d be able to type without watching where I put my fingers, wouldn’t you? Well you’d be wrong. I remain resolutely the two-fingered typist and I have to watch what I am typing as I type it. More to the point, I have to watch my fingers ignore the evidence of my eyes and go to the wrong key more often than not. Still, I can usually type reasonably quickly in this fashion, so it’s not all a complete loss.
The view out of the window is even less beguiling than previously. I can peer out now, not at the comings and goings in M&S, but at a red brick wall with grotty windows with dirty net curtains in them. Someone has a worse office than us.
I have yet to form a view on the local climate1. I was neatly adapted to my old climate, a little less so to this one.
My locker is still across the building and will remain so for the rest of this week. That means that once my Pepsi Max has run out, I shall have to trek over there to get my mug and coffee for later consumption.
This has been an odd move…
1The air-conditioning in this building is such that each block of desks has its own climate and each desk a micro-climate.