On Wednesdays

On Wednesdays, the hybrid office I work at comes alive. While some of us work from home two or three days a week, on Wednesdays, we are ALL required to all be there. It’s nice to see the faces and interact with each other on a social level. But, sometimes, it isn’t. It also presents some challenges.

On Wednesdays, the parking is next to impossible. There are a limited number of spaces and finding a spot is trying. Now add that I don’t drive the brand we represent, I am limited to certain spaces only (far on the parameter). Not parking in a “shame” space can result in a ticket or towing that day. I’m parking ostracized. It’s funny, when throughout the day you see someone running up to one of the windows double checking on their car, it’s obvious that they have broken the parking ordinance and they want to verify they haven’t been towed.

On Wednesdays, if you are scheduled for a later shift, you are almost guaranteed not to find a spot and you’ll have to park in the overflow lot a ½ mile away. It’s too far away to hoof it in unless you arrive 30 minutes early and need the steps, but you might also come into the office sweaty, smelly or rained on, which to be honest, might not be that odd. Plus you are crossing a main road. The possibilities of playing Frogger increases. They do provide a shuttle, but it feels more like a school bus. I don’t like feeling that I am back in middle school, riding the bus into school with a bunch of snot nosed kids. At lease there is no bullying, we are all still waking up. No one really talks in there and we are all judging who may be sitting near you. Luckily, you got your backpack, laptop, lunch and coffee to-go in the seat next to you, providing you personal space.

On Wednesdays, the fridges are fuller. Rearranging items will be required to fit your lunch. You have to do an assessment of the items inside before you go moving it all around to fit your lunch bag. You don’t want to squish anything, nor drop or spill. I usually feel like I need to issue an apology for touching the other bags and boxes in there. “Sorry, I touched the outside of your box,” I say in my head to no one, but I feel like the sin of touching has been forgiven when I do.

On Wednesdays, the bathrooms are smellier. With the increase in the number of people using them, the nasty aromas increase ten-fold. You never have your choice of stalls either. Mine is the handicapped stall. Sorry, but is is roomier and it doesn’t feel like you are in a phone-booth having to conduct the daily constitutional. I just need a little more room to spread out or I’ll become claustrophobic. Of course I make sure I don’t linger in that one. I know I am being inconsiderate to those that may need that stall, but it’s nicer than the other ones. I feel like George from Seinfeld when I break etiquette rules like that. Now, add the grunting noises of others, mixed aromas, the soap running out, the air freshener that stops freshening and the towel dispenser that runs out of towels. It’s a lot of fun on Wednesdays.

On Wednesdays, it used to be “Prince Spaghetti Night, “ but for me it has become something of a challenge.