Me vs. HVAC

At the cubical farm that I work at, aka the Bank, our in-house attorney stops by my desk everyday. He is not the one with horrible breath and hair that is another person. The in-house attorney likes to stop by and make fun of what I am wearing. Specifically the fact that I am covered up and wearing a jacket all day, this he finds absolutely comical. I don’t see what is so funny. Sure I laugh along and make a stupid giggle so that he can feel better about himself, instead of giving him the bitch stare.

All the offices at my work have windows, and those offices are all on the outer edges and all the cubicles are in the middle, pretty standard office set-up. The cubicle dwellers never see the light of day unless they happen to get to enter an office with a window or leave the building. What the attorney does not realize as an office dweller is that he has it better than the open range cubical folks. You see the temperature for the whole office is set by what temperature it is in the offices. Why? Because office dwellers loose their ever-loving minds if it is too hot or too cold in their offices, then proceed to complain about the adverse temperature as if someone just threw dog shit at them. Damn that HVAC!!!

In the summertime, when the heat is hitting the offices, they crank the AC up in the building to appease the temperature adverse office dwellers and what that means for me in cubicle farm is that it gets even colder out where we are. It’s already cold where I am, and then I happen to sit under a vent, and all that frozen glory sprays down on me. It’s not even worthy pleading my case to the office manager. As the temperature controller of our building she does not understand the meaning of cold, she is going through menopause and she insists on wearing a heavy wool suit everyday. I have nothing against women in menopause, I will supply you will all the chocolate and fans I can find, and I hope someone does the same for me one day. However, a woman who is having heat flashes, in a heavy wool suit is not best suited to determine the temperature of an office, as her opinion is skewed, in my humble opinion. She thinks I just need to buck-up.

But it really is cold, my hands often go numb and I have to wear my coat all day. They took away my space heater, they said no to my electric blanket, and they said that wearing my ski parka was unprofessional. My only line of defense is layering and hot cocoa. Layering helps me look less like a woman which keeps the horrible coworker from looking at my “shirts”, so it is beneficial that way. However, when this placid attorney stops my desk everyday to make his stupid joke, I really have to hold my self back from saying, “Shut-up you pansy-ass office dweller, you would cry like a baby if you sat where I sit”. I am frekin’ cold and it makes me crabby and clearly not in the mood for the unintelligent jabs that he likes to throw my way. I have tried to explain the office heating and cooling issue to him, to no avail.

Everyone wonders why I have to take so many sick days. Maybe it’s because I have an arctic gale blowing on me for eight hours a day.