Thursday, July 27, 2017

The Cryptic Morgue Pit

Yeah, what a hectic week. After months of preparation and planning, the company I work for by day has moved from its longtime digs on Market St. in Greensboro to a new office out by Piedmont Triad International Airport. I can't say I'm thrilled about the change — my new daily commute is actually longer than my drive when I lived in the city of Chicago and worked in the northern suburbs (square mileage–wise, Greensboro is larger than San Francisco or Boston, with almost enough urban sprawl to boot). I suppose I was somewhat spoiled by having to drive no more than 15 minutes to any of my various workplaces in Greensboro since I moved here in 1987, usually with minor to moderate traffic issues. Now, it's the daily Asshole Parade on Interstate 40 and U.S. 29, with few reasonable alternative routes to and from my place. It certainly ain't helping my blood pressure.

That said, this is still the best day job I've ever had or could probably want, at least as long as I'm on someone else's payroll. The pay ain't that great, but the benefits are fair to middlin', and I couldn't work with a better team of folks — except may Troy, but we're not going to talk about Troy. We're not going to talk about Troy at all; we're going to leave him out of it.

However, this isn't quite the end of it. These new quarters are actually temporary, as our permanent space, a couple of buildings over, is not quite ready for us to move in. We'll probably remain in our current location for a couple of months and then go through the whole moving thing all over again. For the moment, though, I kind of like the office where we're situated. It's a cool (read chilly) building, which really sits well with me, and there's lots of space for walking with Ms. B. at break times. There are, in fact, a handful of caches on the premises, though of course I claimed them several years ago when they first came out. However, once I determine whether there's adequate usable space, there's a good chance I'll hide a new one or two nearby.

The past couple of days, with all the upheaval, everyone's been kind of punchy, and our work spaces have been designated as summer camp cabins, with the occupants responsible for naming them. The space I share with a couple of others has become known as the Cryptic Morgue Pit, and I was not entirely responsible for this, a fact that gives me at least some hope for certain of my co-workers.

Busy, busy.

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