Office Space: the Canadian Version

I sincerely apologize to all my friends and family that had to endure my complaints about temping on the stress infested 35th floor. Sure 35 is home to some prim donnas and napoleons of M&A. Sure I hate having my name forgotten and my ego busted. Sure I occasionally want to jump out the glorious huge windows overlooking the trade center. But at least I feel something, at least 35 inspires some emotion for my pathetic excuse of an 8 hour work day.

But today working on a floor that I never knew existed, for a group whose acronym I can’t define I realize what a blessing even angst can be. Today I am sitting in a beige cubicle surrounded by an ocean of other beige cubicles. There are sings that say “focused work session in progress,” charts of workplace goals, warnings of the danger of carpel tunnel and worst of all beanie babies slumped on top of computers. It is the sad Canadian version of Office Space, without the breaks of flair and merry squirrels. And it evokes no emotion besides exhaustion, even after a large coffee.

Maybe it is the grey skies outside, the strain of the constant buzz of city life or just remnants of last weekend’s hang over but today life in the city does seem exciting or invigorating, but instead numbing and counter productive.

This morning I read an article in the New York Times about dairy farmers in danger of losing their creamery because of the greed of a business man. (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/23/us/23land.html?_r=1&pagewanted=2&ref=us)
The story was tear jerking, heart warming and every other clichéd, over simplified emotion one person can feel but it also seemed more real than this life in a cubicle. The farmer was producing tangible good in exchange for real money. It made me want to move to a dairy farm up north. Actually I’ve been to a dairy far up north…so it made me want to move to an orchard in Vermont or a vineyard in North Carolina.

Really the article made me want to do something real and tangible with this very real and tangible life of mine before it turns into something that can be speculated, traded or discounted. In want to do something real with my life before I end up smashing a copy machine in the middle of a field.