We made it. The company did, that is, the collective We. We're in the new office, as of yesterday.
If you've ever seen a chick get out of it's egg, or watched a cicada wrestle it's way out of a shell then you know how we all felt yesterday. It was the final cataclysmic wrenching, the last of the three week long struggle to free ourselves from an office that was built out of a duplex apartment and into a new, clean, appropriate office environment. We're not done yet, we've still got to settle all this new stuff into the office, but the worst is over after a marathon day of unhooking computers and scanners and charts and one singularly immense network printer, loading it all into trucks and SUVs, dragging it ten miles across town and then unloading it all into it's new home.
But it's done.
My apologies, Old Grey Mare, for not calling yesterday evening. I ended up in bed just after 7:30. Too much heat and stress on a body that's no longer 20.
And someone forgot and left the refrigerator door open last night. It's 72 degrees out there. I'm afraid to walk outside for fear of freezing to something metal. After spending all summer working in temps upward of 106 degrees, with heat indices in the low 200s it's frightening to step out into 72 degrees of coolth. I feel like I'm on the Pacific Northwest coast again, standing in front of the sea, feeling the chill wind blow in from Japan. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, it's utterly wonderful, but it's a terrible tease, because I know that after this weekend's rain it'll be back to 100 degrees again.
Found the picture of the day yesterday--four beauties in the yard when I got home, and I wanted to get a good picture of them before they get knocked over by marauding dogs or brushed with a lawnmower deck or a careless foot. I think you guys would have gotten quite a smile out of me; filthy and exhausted from work, covered in dust and rust, about to fall out, and yet on my hands and knees in the yard with the digital, snapping pictures of fungi. Ah, the things I do for my Muse.
So what else is there currently? Not a great deal, I hate to say. Getting the office open has been the primary cause of stress, and after the madhouse of yesterday I feel like I belong somewhere again. It was odd, though, to be in a building full of people, when before I had been used to it being either just me or me and one or two other people, usually all of us intent on unpacking or sorting things, so quiet was the order of the day. To suddenly have the building full and active with the usual staff PLUS three techs running blue pythons of Cat 5 cable in and out of the ceiling and telephones ringing like mad and people scrambling to claim printers and their leveling boards (more on that later) was astounding, and headache-causing to boot. But, I am certain things will settle out soon, offices will all be claimed and finsh being decorated, and mini-blinds will appear shortly, to cut the very bright and very determined sun.
Me, I've still got my week of work that's been steady piling up behind me like water behind a dam, and of course I've still got a file room to put in order, and I have numerous opportunities now to tweak and fine-tune the system to my liking.
The best part of this move? I feel like I'm on even ground now, or more accurately that I have a slight home-turf advantage. I was walking through the office with the daughter and my digital camera when it was just a forest of pink 2x4 joists, and I have been active in the office since before it was ready to BE an office. I have had a tremendous hand in how things look inside, from arrangement of pictures and plaques to how the chairs are parked in front of the desks, and I have spent more time in there than anyone but the DOO and the daughter. I know it's only a psychological ploy, but I rather like the fact that the office is MY turf, that I am familiar with every nook and cranny of it already, having put a fair bit of our items in those nooks and crannies to begin with, and everyone else is coming in fresh. Upper hand? Maybe so, maybe not. Familiarity? Yes, in spades. I'm the smallest cog in the clock mechanism, but I'm the cog who knows where everything is hidden. *lol*