So yeah, I was completely unaware of exactly how crazy I was until I changed jobs and was given my own office. Please consider this an apology post for the entire newsroom of The Huntsville TImes. 🙂 At the paper, we lived in cubicles. And they were cubicles without walls so everyone was up in everyone’s business regularly. I was so excited about getting my own office — perhaps more than the other benefits of the new job. I mean, I wouldn’t have to yell on the phone just to be heard over my colleagues.
Now, five months later, I miss my cubicle. (Chalk that up to something I never thought I’d say.) Â I am completely self-aware, and I have discovered I am cray-cray. I’m in my office the majority of the day. It’s me, a computer and my head. I tend to be an over-analyzer on a good day, so when I’m alone with my thoughts for eight hours a day, it can get pretty bad, and by bad I mean ridiculous. I am in my head all day long, and there is all kinds of crazy up in there.
When I worked at the newspaper, having to focus wasn’t difficult because there wasn’t an option to be unfocused (unless Amy was in the office.) Being unfocused meant missing a deadline, and I never missed a deadline. I have tremendous responsibilities in my new job, most of them do not require human interaction, or at least not much of it. I do most of my work on a computer, whether it be website design and management or print design and layout. Turns out, the part of your brain used for design is completely separate from the crazy part of the brain.
So now, I sit in my office working and thinking. Usually the thinking thigk is completely subconscious so you don’t realize it until later in the day when you’re trying to figure out why you’re mentally exhausted and anxious about seemingly nothing. Thinking is bad in this scenario. I think about sooo many things, and many of them are ridiculously stupid. For example, I will start thinking about my dogs in the morning — wondering if they’re sleeping or if they’re anxious. I wonder if Barkley antagonizes Lucky while she’s in the kennel since it’s her only opportunity to do so. I wonder if Lucky has tried to escape said kennel and eat something toxic (again.) I wonder if she’s chewed through the sheet metal (again) and through the two-inch rubber mat (again) and made her way to my carpet (again.) I wonder if I left a pair of shoes out or if I closed the bathroom door. Needless to say, by the time I walk in my back door at the end of the day, I am so wound up and nervous because I am expecting to walk into a war zone my dogs have voluntarily created. But in reality, I go home to a quiet, peaceful and clean apartment greeted by two happy pups with wagging tails. Nothing is destroyed and nothing toxic consumed. (Most days.) So yeah, being alone in one’s thoughts all day is the human equivalent of what WebMD does to the common cold/brain tumor diagnosis.
I over-analyze everything more than I ever did before, and I am completely aware of all of my problems, fears, concerns and worries. I was so much happier when my work day thoughts consisted of hoping I was off in time to get Bang Bang shrimp before happy hour ended at Bonefish.
Please understand there are perks. I can pick my nose and no one sees me. I can listen to music without headphones. I can pray aloud without bothering anyone around me. I can adjust my Spanx without anyone seeing. I can talk through the speaker phone and avoid awkward shoulder crunches and uncomfortable head sets. I enjoy having my own office, and I enjoy the perks, but being alone with your thoughts all day is not one of them.