The Office

Five out of seven days of the week begin with a long walk along Mombasa Road which allows me to fret about life (philosophize) and plan ahead (daydream) at a fast pace while oncoming traffic speeds past inches away. Naturally I get to work well warmed up.

There is an open plan layout at the office. Very few doors, with bullpen-style cubicles, workstations everywhere. Less obvious to an outsider is the heirarchy, the bureaucracy of departments and stations and regions, the sheer politics lurking just beneath the surface of the brand.

Tempted as I am to characterize my workmates as hardworking robots, I must confess that they are a varied and interesting lot, actual living personalities, once you somehow peel their eyes off their monitor screens. But I won't say I like everybody I work with, or that I am popular around these parts either.

I avoid cliques (or perhaps I repel crowds!) and try to establish professional rapport with individual colleagues on a person to person basis. However the ubiquitous complaint that arises in my wake everywhere else in my life has sounded here: that I am too solitary, reserved and standoffish. What's new?

Work has been pretty hectic of late. Let's just say the tail is furiously wagging the dog. Even so I remain sufficiently incentivized by the pay to thank for GOD every day I spend here.

I also know Future Me will be bitter at Present Me about the opportunity cost of a bird in hand.