I am, I like to think anyhoos, a tolerant man. I always try to think the best of people, and am forgiving of their minor foibles. Of late though I've had my phlegm tested to its limits by overcrowing in my workplace and the annoying habits of some of my colleagues.
The office is undergoing a big reshuffle in order to accommodate an additional two dozen staff. All the new bods are IT flavoured, which does rather beg the question why can't they work remotely? But no, we have to squeeze them in here. Clearly there isn't enough space. If there were, we'd simply all budge up a bit. Instead, cupboards, air con units and pedistals are being culled. They're even giving us narrower desks. I am being serious.
Like rats in a maze, this overcrowding is causing the inhabitants to turn on one another. For example, I won't need much more provocation to bare my teeth at a chap who sits near me and who insists on drumming with his fingers on the desk edge as he reads emails. It's a frantic and insistent rhythm that he keeps too. I wouldn't mind so much if it were more latin and laid back. But it's right on the beat. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. It's driving me fcuking septic. He'll have to go.
Also, the market and advertising teams seems to employ a disproportional number of guffawers. They cannot and will not stop laughing. One dizzy mare who works in ads was laughing the other day as she recounted a recent trip to the south of France. She was simply narrating the material events of the journey - going to the airport, checking-in, the flight etc. And yet she was in stitches. It's clearly some sort of nervous tick. She might need help and isolation.
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