I Miss My Cubicle...

Some of you may have heard about my dilemma with the biggest bastard in the universe, whom we'll call Gorilla Boy. Well, okay, four of you have, so I'll recap.

I'd been sitting at my peaceful little cubicle for a while, since they put the damned things up, then they hired a gorilla look-alike who sat at my computer during day shift. He started this whole bastardy business by changing my desktop patterns every day, which didn't bother me. I can change those back, no big deal. Then he started deleting all the (really cool, if I do say so myself) desktop themes I made from the computer entirely. The fuckface. He'd take down things I hung on the walls (I didn't go overboard...no stuffed animals or pictures of myself and my relatives, mind you), and throw them away. He left a CD there one day, and I was accused of scratching it (I did nothing of the sort, though I wish I had). Then one day I left my sweater on the back of my chair. The next day I came in, it was in the garbage can. Long story short, Seven and I went to the new boss to talk about it, to try to get Gorilla Boy in some sort of trouble, or at least just to get him to stop, but Mr. New Boss didn't give a rip. All he had to say was that if you like owning things that belong to you, you should leave them at home where they belong. Yeah. Thanks.

So I've taken the last three days off (to see some bands) and I went in today, and my cubicle had been vacated by Gorilla Boy, and Organized Girl had moved in. Organized Girl is a crazy person. She has all these plastic folder bins and cups and paper clip holders and copy stands that she feels are hers, even though they're clearly the property of the company. If any of it has been moved, she leaves a note that asks that everyone refrain from touching her stuff. She puts little post-its on everything that says what goes in each slot, cup, etc. She's neurotic, I tell you. She took down the few measly pictures I'd left there that Gorilla Boy hadn't thrown away, and moved them all in a little bunch on one side and covered the rest of the cubicle walls with her shit. Pictures of some kid, a stuffed Pat the Bunny, ads she's done that she's apparently proud of (though I can find 14 spelling/grammar errors, if pressed), and a bunch of other crap completely cover my walls now. She wrote on her copy stand (you know, those little plastic standy-uppy things you put papers on while you type) "If you take this put it back!!!" and a little happy face, to show what a swell gal she can be.

She also printed out a list of fonts the company owns and wrote "Lisa's Fonts!!" in bubble letters. She categorized them as script, big fat, and fancy. This girl must've had some hardcore schoolin' on fonts, I tell ya what. (Fonts are categorized as serif and sans serif, for starters). She made a little note to the side that the font Garamond was "Just like Helvetica, but fancier!!!" That may not mean anything to you non-font lovers, but to us, it's like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Another good name for Organized Girl would be...Exclamation Point girl. She puts them after everything she writes. It's sickening. There are all kinds of new files on my computer that say things like "icons!!!" and "Lisa's stuff!!!" And Lisa sure does have a lot of stuff. Her personal folder (which contains mostly pictures of cats and flowers and sports cars) must take up about half the computer's 6 gigs.

Christ, I want to kick Organized Girl's teeth in.