O How I Miss the Office

O, how I miss the office.
Those walls within which I ply my trade.
Where colleagues coalesce to collaborate and commiserate.
And working while sick is a sign of dedication.

O how I miss my morning commute.
Standing on the platform, sleep deprived, waiting for the 6 train.
Turning up the volume on my podcast as the subway screeches into the station.
Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with other bleary eyed commuters.
…waiting for the sliding doors to open.
Forearming passengers in search of a pole to grip.
And trying to find my breath as we go hurtling through darkness

O how I miss the office elevator.
That 6 x 8 foot metal box with poor ventilation.
Where sneezes and coughs are gross and inappropriate.
But never potentially deadly.

O how I miss the office coffee.
Always waiting for me in the micro-kitchen in a lukewarm stainless steel carafe.
That hasn’t been washed all week.
I drink that coffee from a mug branded with our company logo.
Which I then leave in the sink for someone else to deal with.

O how I miss my office desk.
The place where I eat lunch everyday.
And do non-work related things in incognito windows.
Where my absence raises the suspicion of my manager.
And where multiple succulents have met their fateful end.

O how I miss team meetings.
Being able to see all my colleagues’ mask-less faces.
As we share the same air in a glass-enclosed conference room.
We attempt to discuss things related to work
And nobody stops to introduce us to their pet or child.
Or show off a piece of artwork in their living room.
But somehow the meeting still goes on longer than it needs to.

O how I miss the office decor.
The motivational statements painted on the wall.
“Do or do not. There is no try.”
The ping-pong table that’s always occupied by sales bros.
And the ergonomic chairs.
Lots and lots of ergonomic chairs.
All of which are now collecting dust.

O how I miss snacking.
Picking through the healthy options.
Like dried chipotle chickpeas and air puffed edamame bites.
Trying one, then leaving the package open on the counter for someone else to finish.
Not concerned that they could consume the germs from my unwashed hands.

O how I miss waiting to leave.
Sitting at my desk at 5:30PM.
Checking to see if all my colleagues are still present.
And preparing my excuse for when my manager catches me walking out the door.

O how I miss working late.
So late that I get on a first-name basis with the janitorial staff.
And observing all the trinkets my colleagues leave on their desk overnight.
Like stress squeeze balls and empty coke vials.
Dinner is comprised of whatever remnants can be found in the fridge.
Usually a leftover sandwich from last month’s board meeting.
And a few hard apple ciders left unopened from Happy Hour.

O how I miss the office.
That place I prepared all my life to be.
Now you sit dormant. An empty container floating high above the city streets.
And I ply my trade but a few feet from where I sleep.
So no more morning commutes.
Crowded elevators.
3 cups of coffee.
Desk lunches.
Pointless meetings (OK, fewer pointless meetings…)
Cheesy quotes
And I don’t leave early or work late.
Instead, I work when I feel productive.

Actually, it’s not so bad.
But I wouldn’t have known it if not for you.

One response to “O How I Miss the Office”

  1. loved this!


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