Describe a typical day for you at work. You can go total Peter Gibbons on this one.
Let’s see, and considering I woke up early this morning with one after one of my huh, issues.
I try to show up right around 7:00. This floats a bit sometimes, because it’s never a sure thing how long it’ll take to get to the base. I also have to get a ride in, normally from my mother, because the bus stop is way too far for me to even try to walk.
I walk through the various security checkpoints to my work area. There’s a door with two-factor authentication, and a couple more where I have to swipe my badge. The floor height varies oddly moving between the concrete slab of the main office, and the raised floor of the area where I work.
Once inside, I stumble to my eighth of a cube. No, I’m not joking. I have an eighth of a cube. At some point, someone had decided that a “pod” configuration would be most productive. There are four main pods. I’m in the one farthest from the doors. Getting to the work area involves manuvering around people who haven’t even gotten promoted to an eighth of a cube; there’s no direct walkway to Myspace.
I hang my cane on the wall of the cube, and sit down to wait for my two PCs to boot. Next, I check the email accounts I can. Very rarely is there anything really of interest. Since they still haven’t gotten me full access to the tools I need to do my job, I try to look around to see if there’s anything, that would be shown in those tools, for me to fix.
At some point, I make the trek down the hall for my first of many trips to the bathroom.
It’s cold in there, the result of past electronic practice. (If you check most electronic components, the optimal temperature for operation is normally a few degrees warmer than where the overbuilding mastars keep server rooms. 73-78F doesn’t mean it’ll last any longer at 65. Seriously, y’all.) One bright side about the cold is that it does help keep me awake a bit amidst the drone of fans. Many days, though, I’ll have a cup of coffee to try to keep me awake and warm.
Because I have no way to leave the office, I don’t take a lunch. I snack at my eight of a cube. I worry about drinking too much liquid, or eating something that’d mess with my intestines. (Not that my MS drugs help any with those to begin with….) There’s a small bathroom inside the area, but I normally don’t use that one, because the one stall is often occupied.
I get through the day trying to not be hung up on what’s being done wrong. Yes, there’s many things that fall into that category. Hey, they’ve worked since 1996, so that must be the way to do them. Uh, actually not.
I languish away until whoever’s able to give me a ride is ready to leave, finally. Normally, since they’ve been able to leave at some point during the day, this is somewhere around 1530. If nobody’s able to give me a ride, I now try to see who in my family can come to pick me up. Getting a taxi there has been like Tony Romo with a game on the line. If I was allowed to have my cellphone, it’d be easier. But, that’s not allowed, and hasn’t been for years. “Just lock it in your car.” Uh, I don’t drive, y’all. “I don’t have to make accommodations for you!” Uh, yeah, you do, actually.
But they’ve shown unwillingness to do anything to accommodate me, really. This job sort of pays out bills. I’m trying to do good work, but my way of considering things is completely lost on folks. It’s fine; it’ll be over sooner rather than later.