Open Plan of Attack

RoveDaily etiquette queen Terri Psiakis tackles the dilemmas of office protocol. If you have a question, why not ask Terri?

DearTerri@rove.com.au

Dear Terri,
I work in an open-plan corporate office where everyone can see and hear everyone else. The girl at the desk nearest mine plays music on her laptop that I can't stand. When I'm not there, she borrows stuff off my desk whenever she feels like it and I'm powerless to stop her because I can't lock up my work space. And what do I do when I need to pick my nose?

Sam, Brisbane QLD

Dear Sam,
Your problem illustrates perfectly the reason I'm glad I don't have a real job. While I spend my days working from home in a dressing gown and slippers, listening only to my favourite music, knowing everything's exactly where I left it and mining nasal gold whenever I please, you're listening to Rihanna thirty times a day while your stuff goes missing and you develop a huge back-up of snot. And on top of all that, while I can toot to my heart's content you're probably denied even the basic human right to fart. Instead of cultivating plans to climb the corporate ladder, Sam, you should have learned a trade.

French philosopher Jean-Paul Satre wrote that hell is other people and it's my firm belief that open-plan corporate offices were invented by Satan. Who else would have thought it was a good idea to create an office space where you quite simply can't get away from people you can't stand? The only privacy you get is in the bathroom, and if you start spending hours in there not only will your work not get done but people will start gossiping about your debilitating poo/wee issues and we can't be having that.

As far as the unwanted tunes go, get yourself a headset and plug into the music of your choice. Turn it up as loud as you like so your neighbour can be annoyed by the tinny sound emanating from your headphones. And it when it comes to her borrowing your stuff, here's where your stockpile of snot comes into play. Spend the first five minutes of every morning putting your manners aside to pick like there's no tomorrow and put the fruits of your labor to use. She won't want to borrow a stapler, hole-punch or highlighter covered in delicate smears of goobies, will she? And if you get to the point where you simply can't stand the sight of anyone else in the office, build yourself a little cubby and go about your work in the private sanctuary afforded by the space beneath your desk. Enjoy.