cubicles aren't so square!

so it turns out that working in a cubicle is kinda fun. sure, it's only been just shy of three weeks, but really, it is kind of fun! as a short girl, i can't really ever see over the cube when i'm sitting, but boy oh boy, can i hear a lot. for instnace ~

the courtin' boys. okay, so they aren't courting to date, but they are courting to be friends. it's so sweet! glasses-boy, who sits in my row, is young and married. good hair, who works across the hall, comes by on occasion and they chat. sometimes about biking (they're both bikers - on bikes, not motorcycles), about their wives, about investments (okay, that last part's kind of lame. sure, we're totally at the age where we should be investing, but it never sounds very cool, you know?). this small-talk banter has been going on since like the third day i started. well, today they graduated into full-on mutual admiration/can't we be friends talk! yea! today the talk turned to good hair's baby and where glasses-boy lives and the type of lawnmowers they use. yea! i think they've hit the going steady level of guys-making-friends. very cute. i can't wait til they actually make, you know, plans out of the office so their wives can meet!

so those two i can actually see. all i have to do is swivel around in my chair.

but the woman on the other side of my cube wall? she i cannot see and i kinda of don't want to. she's hilarious. she's from the islands, so she's got this nice little lilting accent. i imagine she's round and wears flower-print blouses. she talks lovingly of her husband. i can usually tell if i should go to the cafeteria downstairs for a salad or out ~ when the salads are bad, she goes on and on in great detail to her coworkers about why it was so bad; sometimes the lettuce is all wilty, at times the vegetables are kind of soggy, once in a great while there's not enough lettuce leafs. The best, though, is when she is either (a) talking to her deadbeat son or (b) about her deadbeat son.

when it's (a), the conversations go like this "well, you need to remember this: when you write a check, the money doesn't automatically leave your account right then. it takes awhile sometimes. you gotta remember to write it down" or "well, are you waking up in time or do i got to call that roomie of yours? why? well, to get him to poke you in the morning, poke you, you know, to wake you up so you aren't late" or "what do you mean you no got to go to work? it's a monday/wednesday/friday - everyone has got to work - do i need to call that roomie to poke you?"

when it's (b), it usually goes like this "hi, i'm calling to find out if xxx is at work today. no? oh. well is he scheduled? oh, he is? oh, my my my" (hangs up) "oh my god! girls, listen to this!"

in the meantime, i need a house. i am so still pretending i'm still visiting. i eat out at lunch. i eat out at dinner. all i want is a kitchen of my own so i can, you know, cook. i heart cooking! it's just weird, the idea of cooking in this kitchen that's only my temporary kitchen, not my real kitchen (plus my temporary housemate doesn't seem to eat. ever. all he seems to do is run. a lot. granted, he looks good. but he looks vaguely hungry, too). what's a girl to do? buy a house!

yo, which i totally did yesterday. yea!