I know I’m not alone when I say I’m a cube monkey, or meercat might be the better definition, because you know you can’t help but compare the people who pop up out of their cubes to some form of gopher-like wildlife popping up out of its hole.  At least the gopher doesn’t call up their co-worker who’s in the next cube.

I’m telling you, we aren’t too far away from becoming the humans in Wall-E who are so dependent on their mobile chairs that they flop around like upside down turtles if they’re knocked off.  I answer the phone of two people who sit in in joining cubes with only a little cube wall to separate them.  When one of their in-house calls defaults to me, I can’t see who’s calling (even though I rarely look anyway).  When I answered one of their calls today, it was one calling the other.  They sit all of five feet apart.

Can someone please explain the logic of this?  When you can stand up and talk over the wall to the person you’re calling, why the deuce would you call them?  Even when we were in the old office with quarter cubes and you didn’t even have to lean back to see each other, people on either side of me would call each other and I could hear the entire conversation.  In surround sound.

I don’t get this.  I can understand the convenience, especially if you have an office like ours now where it’s a five minute walk to the other side of the building, but still.  Is it really necessary to call your cube neighbor when you’re voice is echoing in their own receiver?

We are destined to be slugs, I’m telling you.  Our asses will meld to our chairs and we will be one with the rolly wheels.  My legs would atrophy if I sat too long at my desk.  I get up for the littlest things.  And I have never called my cube neighbor, especially when I can just talk over the wall.  From my chair.  I mean, come on.