Before You Bitch About That Cube Again

Sure, you don't have an office and you "deserve" one. I get it, I understand, I completely relate to your pain. But before you go trashing the fact that you work in a slightly less smelly version of a slaughterhouse, behold this cube, this desk, this office space.

Here's your cube, with your ubiquitous pics of your strange looking spawn, your various Post-It notes, certificates, office supplies. Check.

And your printer. Normal, average printer. Check.

Here's a shot of the crap under your desk. Nothing unusual, ok. Check.

Book in the windowsill of your desk, "The Art of Happiness at Work" by His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Nothing unusual there. Check.

Here's a closeup of your weird kid again, this time on your monitor, cleverly surrounded with "Sign Here" flags. Check.

Sure, just your average office cube, except that your back is to 74th and Broadway, and everybody knows your business. Including me and my friend DeeAnne:

So, remember that the next time you feel that crusty boog in your nose, and you're lamenting the lack of an office in which to pick it. And I'm talking to me.