As I was cleaning my room last week (because yes, mother, I am capable of doing this of my own will now), I came across two yellow, slightly crumpled Post-its that I’d written. I don’t remember specifically jotting the words down, but I do know they were from work and that my former coworker Rebecca said them. I’m not sure how they managed to survive being transported in my purse (a bottomless pit) and not get trashed after residing in my room. It’s been almost a year since Rebecca left, so the notes are pretty old.

I started writing down funny things that my cubemates said, and eventually I started putting them on this bubble poster (you know those thought bubbles? Well there was a poster, like a spider web of thought bubbles, that I acquired from the free table. I didn’t really feel like using it to generate ideas and branch new ones from them like the poster said, so I started writing down office quotes.) These sticky notes must have pre-dated my quote wall. Finding them made me laugh and brought back a wave of memories.

Rebecca was the first person I met from work. We were riding the elevator together on my first day. I noticed she pushed the button for the second floor and, not realizing there may be other offices on the floor, asked if she worked at the magazine. Little did I know that I would sit next to her and develop a lasting friendship (and a recommendation for an amazing hair stylist).

It took me awhile to open up at work. I was — not exaggerating — concerned that I may lose my job at any point during my three-month introduction period (which I’ve also heard called probation). I’m not sure why I thought this, but it kept me on edge, thinking that any mistake I made could be grounds for termination. Perhaps I was channeling The Devil Wears Prada, even though my magazine is nothing like the novel or movie. I also felt that everything that came out of my mouth was so incredibly awkward and unrelated that I actually bought the etiquette book As a Lady Would Say to try to learn some social graces I felt I was lacking. It turned out to be pretty common sense stuff that I ended up making fun of instead of following.

Fortunately, I had chatty cubemates who talked to themselves and liked celebrity gossip. Soon enough the six of us were naming our plants. Jersey’s was named Oliver, for reasons I can’t remember. The plant between Lauren and Tom’s cubes was deemed Eileen because she leaned between them. Mine was named Jared, after the guy in Subway commercials. No matter how much I protested, Jersey wouldn’t budge, and this was forever a reminder of the time that I exited the subway (the metro station, not the sandwich shop) and saw Jared and L.L. Cool J doing a promotion in Times Square. Upon entering the office and sharing my story, reportedly I exuded more excitement about seeing Jared than L.L. and Jersey wouldn’t let me live it down.)

In time we developed our routines. Sarah and I checked Hale & Hearty’s website every morning for the soups of the day, debating whether the tomato soup offered was the one we liked (we could never remember if it had basil or not). Tamara didn’t eat sweets or carbs, so in the spirit of sharing, I’d let her smell my treats before I ate them. When the Writer’s Guild was on strike, Tamara and Lauren each accompanied me to different pickets and joined in the celebrity gawking (which was completely justified with Ron Howard omg! And Seth Meyers from Saturday Night Live. And some other tall dudes we recognized from movies but whose names escaped us). We started having tea time every afternoon and checking People.com for the latest celebrity gossip and forwarding each other links to pictures of dogs and cool blogs and art shows. I couldn’t have collected a better group of people to sit by and share my life with.

But after six months, Rebecca got a new job, which was a big break for her and heartbreaking for me. I really think she was an integral part in helping me feel comfortable in the office, and my unorganized cube paled in comparison to hers. A few months later, Sarah and Jersey left. And before Christmas, Tamara was gone too. I wondered how I’d be able to survive at work. I spent the majority of my waking minutes with them and would soon go to hoping our schedules would coordinate every few months. Besides being good neighbors, they’d also become my friends. I told them about my friends back home, some of whom received nicknames, like BFF1 and BFF2. Tamara could sense when I was stressed and would send a kind note with a link to my horoscope. Jersey had a way of saying my initials in a way that just made me happy. And the sarcasm that floated out of Sarah’s cube was always a welcome distraction. Sometimes I’d get so caught up remembering all the good times after they were gone that I’d wondered if I’d be able to work there without them.

I was left with just one original cubemate. Fortunately, Lauren is a good one. When I was homesick, she magically knew that playing with my hair would make things better. She’s quite resourceful when it comes to recommending stores, design websites or remedies for back pain. And she’s got a wicked sense of humor, as evidenced by the number of quotes from her on my thought bubble poster. As wonderful of a neighbor as Lauren is, I could tell that having the responsibility of being the only person to hear all my stories and random thoughts during the work day was more than one person should have to handle. She was a trooper though, and we became much closer through everyone leaving (and she’s the one now who can tell when I’m stressed, even if I deny it).

Replacements started, but they weren’t my original cubemates. One was even a boy… the only one in our department. I just wasn’t sure how this change was going to work out.

It took awhile for me to separate my sadness from all my lost cubemates in order to open up to new people. But then I remembered how welcoming and genuine the women had been toward me when I started, and how that was a crucial part in me feeling comfortable and having fun. I realized that I didn’t have to pick sides. No one was asking me to do that. Becoming friends with the new co-workers didn’t mean I’d lose my relationships with my former ones.

Gradually — and of course, on my own terms — I got to know my new coworkers. Sara and I reminisce about the Midwest and limeades from Sonic and share a little KU-MU rivalry; Lynds and I took a road trip to the printing plant in Virginia to oversee an issue be printed, and during that time I realized I’d want to have long talks with her even if we weren’t in a car together for seven hours. She’s also who sparked me to run the 5K; and Michael and I have been told we behave like brother and sister, especially with our never ending battle of hide and seek with items from the free table. I was the one who started it, but he’s become so good that I have to beg for clues.

I still miss my old cubies. It’s been almost a year since the exit wave started. As hard as it was to say goodbye to them as co-workers, we’ve all managed to keep in touch pretty well, and I’m glad I’ve had the opportunity to get to know new people. And whenever I start defaulting to feeling scared of change, I have all my cubies to remind me that change is a chance to gain something instead of lose it.

3 Responses to “Office space”

1. Alice Hill Says:
   August 13th, 2008 at 1:57 pm

   Jacky, I’m not happy that you aren’t 100% satisfied where you are at this point in your life. i.e. You publish more often. We do enjoy reading about our “leading” granddaughter! Leading, as in age, first to be away from home permanently etc. Please keep updating. At the rate that we are going we won’t know how to read pretty soon. One of us was requested to let Chelsea out for a little while yesterday and it didn’t dawn on us. We had been asked, reminded, to no avail. Minnie says “hi”. The other half of the g-unit is swimming.

   We love you,
   1/2 of g-unit

2. Rebecca Says:
   August 13th, 2008 at 5:59 pm

   I miss our cubetime too! What did those post its say?!

3. skippy Says:
   August 13th, 2008 at 10:52 pm

   my favorite part is how you bought a book to learn how to be a lady. it reminds me of when i, an eternally anger-free person, wanted to understand my students’ anger problems, so i bought a book called GETTING CONTROL OF YOUR ANGER. i still don’t get it.

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