Hot Desking

I have been ‘hot desking’ in a shared office for the last couple of months, a whirlwind of mac books, slogan mugs, white boards and tupperware boxes.

It was noted at the shared office Christmas party, that I never went to, that I didn’t say hello to anyone. It was a polite observation rather than a pointed one, more of a ‘because we would like to say hello back.’  I suspect they are all lovely here.

 

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I can do small talk, or shared kitchen banter, but I just really hate it. Same goes for toilet queue banter, waiting to use the kettle banter and overlong goodbye banter. 

Kitchen banter involves blanket statements or generic observations timed to coincide with how long it takes to microwave a bowl of soup of make a coffee.

You say something so inane you hate yourself a little because it’s something you heard your mum say to neighbours when she saw them at the supermarket and your promised yourself that when you grew up all your conversations would be about Star Trek or Sweet Valley High.

 

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