Privacy, please!

When we first moved to our current office 12 years ago, I was offended. At our previous place, I had my own personal office. A room all to myself. Just me and my computer. No phone, not that I really needed one anyway. And to top it off, I even had the office refrigerator in the same room with me. Ah, the good old days.

But then when we moved to our new space (which obviously isn't so new any more), I ended up sharing a room with my co worker Fred. I was aghast! Outraged! Incensed! Well, maybe not quite that angry, but I was a little less than pleased, for certain.

Nothing against Fred. He's a nice, quiet guy. Easy to get along with. Never very excited or animated. Nothing really to complain about with him. And we do break into conversation about whatever random topics might come up every now and then, without one of us having to walk into the next office as we used to do.

And not that I was ever doing anything that demanded any amount of privacy. Sure, I don't really care that Fred hears my half of whatever phone conversation I might be having (yes, I did get a phone when we moved, although I would usually rather do without it). And I wasn't in the habit of grunting or belching when I was by myself.

But I do enjoy a certain amount of privacy. I'm a pretty private guy, as it turns out, and I don't like someone knowing everything that I might do. Even if he isn't really paying that much attention to me, I still get the feeling that I'm being watched. I'm sure it's all in my head, though. And I don't really watch all that he does, or listen to his part of the phone conversations, either.

Fred did listen to CDs for a while. He still does on occasion, although it isn't nearly as often as it used to be. And while we may not share the same musical taste, his selections were allright, I suppose. Except for the Kenny G Christmas album. Every time he plays that one, I wish someone would put either me or Kenny out of our misery as soon as possible!

So I have adjusted to life in a shared office over the last 12 years. Not that it took all that much adjusting, you know. And I did come up with some things, such as turning my office furniture so that I almost have a cubicle without really having one. And, I got the space on the opposite side of the room from the door. So if anyone comes in, they get to Fred first. Which saves me a little bit of grief sometimes.

Makes me wonder if I was a hermit in some previous life. Or maybe I'm just crabby.