You Show Me Yours ...

I guess I've been lucky. I've spent very little of my working life in a cubicle. Oh sure, I had one for about four months when I first started articling. Until the firm started to fall apart, many lawyers left and I wrangled my way into a suddenly empty office with a gorgeous view of the harbour from the 14th floor.

Just about anything had to be a step down from there, I suppose. And so it was. First of all, to an office with a much less-intriguing view of that same harbour. Then to a windowless office. Those, by the way, need to be outlawed.

Back to cubicle of sorts, if having a desk facing a part wall, part window with no dividers counts as a cubicle. Different desks, different buildings. I think my second favourite workspace (nothing was ever going to top that first huge office with the gorgeous view) was actually the one I balked at the most when I first learned of it. The lawyer I was working for moved into his family home (an older house) and renovated it into an office. The kitchen became the secretary's office, the dining room was a waiting room, His Eminence took up digs in the living room, the spouse of His Eminence was assigned a back bedroom and the other bedroom was assigned the title of "War Room". Alas, what was to become of me? I wanted that War Room, you see. Nope, wasn't meant to be. I, poor hard-working me, was assigned to the front hallway.

Say what?! You expect me to work in the [literally] narrow confines of a hallway? Are you nuts? Well, by the time it was all said and done, I was quite happy in my new home. No, I didn't have clients (or anyone else) traipsing through my office. Only the side door was used. There was french doors between my office and that of His Eminence and with our chairs being literally almost back to back, it was easy for either one of us to open the door, lean back and chat. I was back to having a window. And eventually that window housed an air-conditioner which worked well for me. Add in royal blue carpet, some nice wood end tables from a nicely furnished home and the fact that I could close the door between my office and the secretary's office and then open the inside front door and put up the screen for a nice breeze in the summer and I was happy. Yeah, I know, I'm a cheap date. But sometimes there is something to be said for solitude, peace and quiet and coziness.

Or course, now there are many days that I feel I have neither an office or a cubicle. The one day a week that I work physically in the Barristers' Library, I have a cubicle of sorts. More like a computer work station, I suppose. But I never know for sure which one it might be until I get there. Because someone else just might be using my favourite one. At home I have an office ... yeah, right. What has variously been known as the computer room, the play room and mom's office throughout the years ... and now seems to retain aspects of all three to some degree. Although much less a 'play room' now, thank goodness, since the young'uns are much less young. Still, it's my favourite room in the house, especially in the evenings with just the desk lamp on. It retains a feeling of quiet and order .... all right, semi-order, anyway.

But remember this - whatever your physical work situation, it always could be worse. Apparently it's the 40th anniversary of the cubicle. Now there's something worth celebrating. NOT. But in honour of the occasion, OddOrama has compiled a collection of cubicles of 'Ten Cubicles That Are Cooler Than Yours (One That Isn't)'.

This first one reminds me of articling. Hmmm, wonder why?

Or perhaps you're more of a functional person?



Feeling a little more whimsical?



Go check out the rest of them. And remember, it could always be worse, eh?

H/T to R. Enochs, Esq.