office remembrance

For the first time in around two years I worked in a regular office this week.  That is, not the office in my flat, but an office within a building within a proper sizable organisation.  It was a peculiar sensation knowing I’d been hired in a temporary freelance capacity to ‘hit the ground running’ – which I think was what I did.

I was reminded of the difficulties as well as the positives of being around more people, answering more telephone calls and being more in demand.

How tough it is when you’re sitting at a desk and a female strides purposefully into the room wearing a low-cut top which immediately stings your eye-level; how hard it is for the eyes not to be drawn to one particular area.

How intolerable bawdy, nerve-driven laughter can be.  I can’t feign it and play along.  My face just goes blank, or even blanker.

How you have to compromise and be patient with people and their systems.  How some just talk and talk and talk to no end when they gave the basic answer in three words two minutes before but their nervous stream makes it impossible to interrupt so you have to listen and wait.  I’m not great at this but have battled through.

How your experience of someone in a one-to-one office scenario can be completely at odds with your experience of that person around another person the next day.  Why did you change?  I thought you were fairly normal.  Female weirdness can appear to be sort of infectious, osmotic, as if it undergoes metastasis around other females.

How challenging it is to temper a whisp of undercurrent misogyny in an all-female environment.  Forgive me but it’s hard to experience nothing like this when you’ve spent a large and ever growing part of your life generally being shunned and ignored by them.  And on the occasions you’re not, the overriding impression is that they’re probably all quite weird and messed up in one way or another.  Although you don’t WANT to think they’re all lunatics.  You want to still hope.

How tricky it can be to contribute to female conversations when they hurtle at such breakneck speeds through different topics, driven by that same nervously verbose, machine-gun style.  You think you have something witty and relevant and interesting to add, but it’s gone in the blink of an eye and they’re suddenly talking about plants.


4 Responses to office remembrance

  1. very amusing post…even if it is at the expense of my gender, haha!

  2. Mya says:

    Well I’m not a bloody nutter. Mwha ha ha ha.

    Or am I?

    You sound like you need some heavy duty immersion therapy – I suggest for your next work gig, you try a nunnery.

    • Well I have been working from the house for the past four years…but I did work in women’s magazines for nine years previously. I think you can call that heavy duty immersion therapy 🙂

  3. swashbuckled says:

    Thanks, SS. How dyou know I wasn’t in a nunnery, Mya? If only… Those uniforms are hot. Anyway, not sure I like the sound of heavy duty immersion therapy. Sounds too much like waterboarding.

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