4 Comments

A Change of Place

Every cemetery auditor should have her own crow, right?

Every cemetery auditor should have her own crow, right?

I started a new job in September. While the official title is beyond boring (audit administrator – yawn), the actual work is…well, I don’t really know. It’s all so new I don’t have enough data to formulate an opinion. My boss and several co-workers assure me I’ll do fine, but they may just want me out of their space.

My old office was a low-walled cubicle among other low-walled cubicles in a large, open room in an old State building. You would think I would hate that, but I didn’t. The State requires each employee gets a certain square footage and whatnot. I could decorate my cubicle tastefully (yes, with turtles). I had a huge (maybe 8 feet tall and four feet wide) south-facing window. I was happy there.

A new office accompanies my new job. A new office with a door, but no windows. I have been culled from the herd and sequestered in a prestigious Herman Miller paneled closet flooded with fluorescent light. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to bask in the honor if not the glory of the locked room, but it wore on me. Knowing each morning I would spend the day in my faux fabric casket took the fun out of funeral home audits.

Until last Thursday.

I requested a change of place when a co-worker left for a new job. He had a low-walled cubicle at the opposite end of the building with four huge north and east windows. If you look really close in the above picture, you can see the bottom square of one of those windows above the crow’s head.

My wish has been granted and the only thing holding me down is the wait for schedules to line up so I can get all my stuff moved over there. Under the windows. In the light.

From where I’m sitting, looking at where I will be sitting, I will say, “I hope this will be the best job ever.”

Bury me in the ground, m’dears, but let me work in the sunlight.

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About Robynn Tolbert

Born in Kansas and born again at age six, Robynn wrote stories for her own amusement for the next thirty years. When a job as a foster care caseworker became too stressful and a career with a floral trade magazine became too comfortable, her thoughts turned to writing an actual book. Success led to success, and she completed a second novel and started her third. Robynn, aka Ranunculus Turtle, lives in Kansas with a clowder of cats, a patient dog and a garden.

4 comments on “A Change of Place

  1. The worst job I ever had was in an office without a window. I felt like Life had put me in The Great Time Out.

  2. Yes, I would like my job better, too, if those were my options, to sit where there’s sunlight coming in. :-) I hope this turns out to be the best job ever for you.

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