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Curse of the office Cinnabon
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If I ever get a job doing something related to my field of study, I am going to try to find something in a non-traditional office set up. By non-traditional, I mean I would rather work somewhere more like a house, or small converted type space. I do not thrive in cube land. My first job, at a big full-service law firm in DC, assigned me to a cube. The cube itself was not so bad - half of it was built in with a counter and walls, but it was, nonetheless, a cube. But I hated the monotony of it all and I vaguely recall crying at my desk once or twice in the short 8 moinths I was there.

My next job landed me in something termed the "bull pen" - basically one oversized room with three desks in there where I worked sitting next to a colleague and an intern who came in ever so oft. I got promoted after four months landing me a huge office with a 9 foot window overlooking a pleasant plaza alleyway off the side of the Ronald Reagan Building & International Trade Center. This office was ideal because it was at the end of a rarely traveled hallway - I had peace and quiet - but all the perks associated with centralized office infrastructure (we had on site catering and a cafeteria that served lamb and crab cakes at discounted federal employee rates). Now, as a student, my office is anywhere I can plop down and plug my computer in and receive a wireless signal. I've become less and less traditional and happier in that way.

So when I plod over to Oakland to where I intern now, where cubedom is the way of life, and trays of calorie-laden Cinnabon multi-packs find their way into the kitchenette with troubling frequency,I get a little antsy and, consequently, unproductive. I've been here for 25 minutes today and I'll I've done is get coffee and check my email. And I have a ton of work to do.

Signing off, hoping to manage to do something today before I leave at 2:30.



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