Struggling with Moving Anxiety
Forget my fast approaching move to a yet-to-be-determined new apartment which I’m sure will get much more exciting once we’ve actually found a place. Right now I’m stressing about my cubicle move. Did I mention I got a new job? I did. Same company, different job, new people, new tasks. So now I have to move from the cozy cube I’ve inhabited for years on the 3rd floor, to a new one on the 5th floor.
I took this stuff down yesterday:
I worked on this wall (which used to display delightful greetings from various colleagues) the day I accepted the job offer. I was a little excited.
Can I bring these guys with me? My slightly askew family photo (it recently had a bit of a fall), Pierre my VT skunk, Gizmo the Wizards mascot I got on kids’ day at Verizon Center a few years ago, and my Dundie — they’ve all been living in my cube for so long, they have to come with me. At least the family photo and Pierre. And the Dundie. Gizmo may get donated to the next person to take my cube.
My most prized possession, known as The Wall of Shame, is staying. As long as someone decent takes my cube, the Wall of Shame stays. It is home to research papers about Jell-O’s role in the dinosaurs’ extinction, hand-drawn figures of the end of the world and predictions of cannibalism, as well as some of the best emails and out of office automatic replies I’ve received.
It will stay in my 3rd floor cube, and hopefully be bolstered by my cube’s new resident.
Now the jury’s still out on my leopard print snuggie’s propriety in the new cube.
I’m hoping that moving cubes next week will prep me for moving apartments next month. I’m overwhelmed just thinking about it.
I can’t even imagine moving my whole life to Japan, like my darling friend Rochelle.