I am visiting my office after more than three months. Because it has been that long my laptop does not connect magically to the intra-wireless network and I am left handicapped. I cannot access the floor printer for the same reason and after starring in a short comic film titled How to not embarrass yourself while trying to make the office printer work?, I give in. The IT guy tells me it will take almost an hour for the intra network to accept me as its own once again and I am now stranded in this office, on this floor, amongst colleagues who are strangers and empty desks which are calling out to me to take a quick afternoon nap.
To offer you some context, I say I am back at my office after all these days is because I had been working out of a client’s office all this while. The two offices are five stations (read: train stations) apart and hence no surprise visits to my office ever materialized. There are three locations in the city where my company’s offices stand. The office I am in right now is the one which I have been to only once before today. I hadn’t quite loved the place back then; maybe because I had already grown to love and accept the secondary location to which I had been reporting from, from day one, or maybe because the travel to this office from my home was an exhausting task.
Either way this office feels different today. There are fewer people. The place is quieter and everyone seems to mind their own business. Soft murmurs, fingers profusely typing away emails, cellphones ringing and calls being answered- it is just like how they show it in the movies. The swanky, spacious, extra well-lit MNC office in the heart of a populated city, standing tall and strong all day and all night, housing employees both happy and sad, hopeful and despondent. But let’s not get carried away. I am not here to admire and revel in the obvious architecture of the building. It is lunch time, I am hungry and I have no one around who’d ask me to go to lunch with them. The cafeteria, I have heard, is a densely-populated part of the office by one in the afternoon and I am in no mood to buy a delicious plate of food and then have to scrounge around for a decent spot. I breathe a deep breath, continue typing, and decide to go check with the IT guy on my wireless network’s status in another ten minutes.
Fifteen minutes ago I kept my promise and did make the twenty steps walk to the IT guy’s desk but lo, to my dismay he was missing. It is 1:45 pm. He could be away at lunch or maybe on a tea/coffee break or maybe on a loo break. Sigh. No wireless network. No printer. No work. And I am hungry.
I am back. I checked with the IT guy and he says I’ll have to wait for longer because there is some trouble with the AD. From the sound and looks of it, it seems like a large-scale problem that is affecting people other than me in on the floor. Uff; what an unfortunate day to have had to report to this office. The vending machine coffee here is more terrible than the coffee at the client’s office and my lack of adequate sleep isn’t doing me any good either. Also, just to fill you in and keep in the loop, I did manage to eat lunch at the cafeteria. I found a spot rather easily and enjoyed a full meal. It was unexpectedly scrumptious and rather reasonable. Well, the Oreo milkshake I had splurged on the day before had cost me just as much and now I find myself on a guilt trip, cursing myself for being so careless and abusive of my privileges. A not-a-tall-glass full of Oreo milkshake versus a full meal-- what do you think any poor child on the street or a hard-working middle-class man would have picked?
You know what? Don’t answer that. Just don’t.
Wait a minute. I think I know what it is. It’s a classic bad day; that is what I am having. Let’s rewind. First, I sleep late (read: wee hours of the morning) but end up waking before time, for no reason at all. Second, on my way to the train station from home a traffic cop hurls us (read: mother and I) and mother has to do away with money at 10 am to pay a fine because she was riding without a helmet. Third, no WiFi, no printer and no print outs. Fourth, sad, stupid coffee. And fifth my lunch pushing me over into a so-not-needed-right-now guilt trip.
Do I deserve no office printer? Am I that undeserving of some paper and ink?
Worry not well-wishers, it all worked out. After having spent almost an entire day waiting on a printer, I successfully managed to make my laptop work, figured how to run the floor printer and got my sheaf of papers in place. I sat down at my desk-for-the-day, filled out clearance forms and other required documents, got an envelope from the stationery desk at office and placed it all neatly in it, to leave at the HR’s desk.
Note: The Talent Team was to be away at some business meeting until Saturday so luckily I didn’t have to meet anyone I didn’t want to or would be forced to.
I am only left with meeting the IT team and handing over my IT assets. But alas, how could my exit be so easy? Especially when I know I’ve been having a bad day. Read on.
A cable lock is a thick cable with a lock at one end and which can be wrapped around a frame and a post to protect it from being stolen. If you are confused, let me come to your rescue. Among other IT assets (read: laptop, laptop charger, laptop bag and a dongle) we had also been given a cable lock to lock and protect from being stolen I-don’t-know-what. Anyway, I never used it, because who does, and therefore had completely forgotten that it even existed and forgot to carry it with me.
This counts as an unfortunate event because my clearance form would not be cleared until I’d return it (if I still had it and hadn’t lost it) or else they’d charge me a decent amount for it. If it was something that I could have used I wouldn’t have mind paying for it and keeping it for personal use but it is the most useless thing ever. Anyway, I assure them that I did indeed have it and had merely forgotten it at home that day, showed them a picture of it that I had mother send me over a text message and proceeded to look for the HR’s desk to leave my big envelope of goodbyes.
The desk had been neatly arranged and there was ample space for my envelope to fill up the emptiness. I signed my name and contact details on a corner of the envelope, looked around one last time and walked out of the office, feeling free and breathing easier with every second that I moved towards the elevator on the 29th floor. I knew I had to come back the next day to return the cable lock but that trip wouldn’t count. That’d be a come and go visit. No formal clothing. No access card. No need to look business like and drowned in work. No need for forced greetings and meaningless meetings. It had never been the work that had bothered me, but more so the way in which things were run and an easy, timid acceptance of those ways.
As I left the building I realized I wasn’t tethered anymore, to a place that I did not want to be in and where I knew I did not belong.
I understand that life works in its own mysterious ways. Maybe I do pay a visit again. But I knew somewhere rather deep inside my heart that if that was to ever happen it would happen on my own accord, on my own terms, and in a capacity that I’d decide.
Until then, ciao and best wishes!
(PS: If you are still wondering, LWD stands for Last Working Day.)