Thoughts from a Cubicle: An Archive
Created | Updated Mar 21, 2002
Dear Diary,
I still havent got a clue what is happening here so I will write to you for a while until I find a friend. I find the gentle tapping of the keyboard strangly soothing, almost calming, dulling the hum and babble of the people around me.
29.07.99: Thoughts from a Cubicle.
Yesterday afternoon was not good, forces completely outside my control took over, I had to go down to the Human Resources Dept.
I don't like it there, it is dark. It is quiet. It is cold. I didn't stay long, just did what I had to do and left. They say that the person in charge down there actually lives there. They say he has built a lair, no-one has seen him for 2 months, 2 weeks, 3 days, 147 minutes, not that I'm counting. A blind man recently told me that the HR manager no longer has eyes, that his whitey bluey eyeballs have been replaced by pure black, but he still sees everything.
I returned back to comfort of my cubicle, it was hours later when the shaking stopped. I like it here, it is warm.