Here read the true tales of a young twenty-something cubicle dweller by day - dreamer of “there’s got to be more than this” by night - trying to find the moral of her everyday story. Walk with Jackie down cubicle lane as she humorously shares the pitfalls and high points of moving to a new city for her first job, building a life post 5 o’clock, and searching for meaning in every crevice of her stu-stu studio.

Dear Fellow Millenials,

My grand entry into the working world came and went without much pomp and circumstance (can’t yet seem to let go of school benchmarks for comparison). I set three (3) alarm clocks and my cell phone to ensure that I would wake up on time for the first (and second, and third…and fifth) day(s) of work. My mom also called me at the designated wake-up time in case the batteries in all four (4) alarms (and who even knows how many she set) all happened to die on the same day at the same time. Comment if you have a neurotic Jewish mother (who you love more than anything).

Pajamas See the Light O’ Day

Free coffee was served in the lobby of my building every morning, and while other caffeine-seeking residents came dressed in collared button-down shirts, I showed up everyday at 7:12 a.m. in pajama pants (usually bright-colored, not forgetting my roots with the Sunshine State) and a Gators t-shirt.

I would look around in hopes that someone else had joined the Victoria’s Secret PINK collection pajama brigade - wearing pants with the word “PINK” (written in bright pink ink) stretched across their rear; butt my status as a trailblazer was consistently reaffirmed.

I’d take said coffee back to my living room (which was also my bedroom, kitchen, closet, and bathroom. Life in a studio…sigh), feeling proud to be an individual. Then I’d sip to the tune of The Today Show. Matt Lauer is a fine way to start the day. Trust me. Were you also devastated when Katie Couric bailed?

Button Up

Can we talk about work attire for a sentence or two? Pricey threads, kids. Each pair of lined, pleated pants at Banana Republic or Ann Taylor Loft are around $80. Add another $12 - $15 (in the District of expensive alterations) when you fall into the “good things come in small packages” height category.

With three (3!) as the dominant number in your salary, such circumstances were hard to reckon with. And as hard as you tried, nothing from your Urban Outfitters college wardrobe could pass for business attire (been there, looked dumb).

Making My Mark, One Staple at a Time

First day on the job, I checked my new email account and stumbled upon a treasure of a message with a username and password to order “new hire” office supplies from Staples. I believe the instructions said, “anything you need.” In that instant, the multi-million dollar corporation I worked for basically handed me a license to kill (them…financially).

Look under the Jackie covers and you’ll spot an obsession (likely incurable) for school (now office) supplies. Tied with chunky peanut butter, I think the annual back to school section at Target (and no, I refuse to say Tar-jay) is the best thing in life.

The Staples website became my new virtual playground. It didn’t matter if the other kids weren’t playing. Who needs friends when you can gorge yourself on iridescent thumbtacks and star-shaped post-it notes?

Large bold-faced headings - Office Supplies, Furniture, Technology Supplies – appeared on my wide-screen monitor (the width of which made me dizzy for a week until my eyes adjusted). Then, like a burp I never felt coming, 20 sub-topics within Office Supplies hit me…they hit me hard. Desk organizers, drawer dividers, highlighters and adhesives just to name a few. I didn’t know where to begin, so I closed my eyes, clicked, and landed in the stapler category. Symbolic, you think?

During this virtual shopping spree, my boss stepped into Cubicle #8032 (without knocking first). I casually probed her to see how much her recent “new hire” order had been. She revealed, “$100, maybe a little more.” I looked at my sub-total of $70 and thought to myself, what a wonderful world. I clicked the “continue shopping” button with conviction.

I was told that if I placed my “new hire” order before 3:00 pm, it would be delivered the next day, but anytime after 3:00 pm and it would arrive in two days (perish the thought). At 2:39 pm, I began to sweat. I’m proud to say that I pulled through for next-day gratification. Phew.

My boss returned (again without knocking) to tell me that the minimum office supplies order is $30, so when people need to re-stock and are under $30, they ask others in the office if they need anything. And I thought I had dreams before this job. I really couldn’t wait for the day when someone in a cubicle neighboring mine would shout, “Anyone need some supplies?” and I could respond with, “I’m in desperate need of multi-colored paper clips!”

Faux-feeling professional,
Jackie

Popularity: 8%

Share This