In more than a quarter century in the work force I have had horrible jobs with great offices, wonderful jobs with no office and even once a spectacular job with a lousy office for the first several years and a Taj Mahal for the last few months.
Thus I know the Office Gods are twisted.
Jessica actually drew windows for my cubicle when she was in grade school. They were such a hit with the other grey cave dwellers, she took custom orders for 50 cents a pop. She created a check list to streamline things... do you want birds, clouds, treetops or a ground floor view? On the ground floor -- would that be a cat, dog or cow on the horizon? (For 50 cents you don't get the whole farm).
That job was mericifully brief. I don't do well in the confinement of tight spaces.
Close the door in an office with four solid walls and they will move in towards me at a rate of about a foot an hour. In my current digs, that means I will be crushed and disappear within five hours. Darn good thing I can't sit still that long.
For "the writing year" I picked my own space and sat facing a window beyond my computer. It was heaven. It was not a profitable heaven, but it was comfortable. Very comfortable.
Great firm-great boss-challenging clients has become my mantra as I face the paper-thin wall and listen to my colleagues phone conversations and the hub-bub in the adjacent conference room. All the comfort of claustrophobia and none of the privacy.
Add the hot water lines running through the ceiling and wall closest to me for a semi-tropical effect that does not compliment business attire -- and the penurious days of writing look better every day.
Right up until pay day.
Amazing how that changes the view.

Copyright 2006 Judi Griggs