Thursday, October 25, 2007

It's not messy, it's well-loved.

This morning, I had a couple of beauty PR girls coming in for a meeting. In our office, we have a policy, which is this:

If you need the boardroom for a meeting, you have to book the boardroom.

Seems like an easy rule, right? Except, well, I'm SO bad at booking the boardroom. It's not hard, but you have to open up this program on your computer called, strangely enough, SCHEDULE, which is in addition to the other programs I already have open every day, which include:

Internet browser (obviously)
Email (double obviously)
Filemaker (which is useful for looking up people's phone numbers)
InDesign (which I use to edit the magazine)
Adobe Reader (which I use to look at pretty pictures)
ITunes (because who can work in silence?)

This is already SIX programs, and SEVEN may be lucky, but not for me, because once you open SCHEDULE, then you have to wait until everyone's appointments load and then then you have to type in your meeting and sometimes it acccepts it and other times it gets attitude, like "Ohhh... booking your meeting at the last minute, hmm? We'll see about that!" And then it crashes the program and you have to start all over. Which isn't hard, but it's annoying and well, boring. I've got better things to do (like find a pen for the meeting that I'm trying to book, which is happening in like five minutes). So usually, I just take my chances that the boardroom is free.

So this morning my boss was having a few clients in at the same time, so I had no grounds to call shotgun without her saying understandably, for like the MILLIONTH time, "I didn't see your meeting in the SCHEDULE. Did you book it?" So instead I was forced to have the meeting in my office. My office isn't tiny, but it's not big either, and not certainly big enough to house all the beauty products that come into my office daily.

When I worked at Elle, I had a BEAUTY CLOSET.

Oh yes, just like in The Devil Wears Prada, this exists....

(The beauty closet, unlike the clothes closet though, has beauty products, not clothes. Go figure.)

At Elle, it wasn't even a closet, really. It was like the size of my first apartment. And three times the size of my itty bitty cubicle. But I had the key to the closet. It was a dream.

Now, we don't have a beauty closet. The upside is that I have an office. With a window. And a door.

But because I have to stash all my products in shelves in my office, it tends to get a little, well messy. IN OTHER PEOPLE'S opinions.

This is because, on average, I get about 10 packages delivered to me everyday. In each package there is usually a bag. Within this bag, there is usually about 5 products. It's like Russian dolls but with lipbalm as the reward. So each day I have to take these 50 products and find a home for them in one of the 13 clear storage bins like this...

Which have labels such as: Hair, Cleansers, Cosmetics, Fragrance and Nails.

But of course, some products, like this... not fall into a common category listed on the bins. So then I am forced to make other piles around the office, along with products like (ahem) this....

... which may never make it into the magazine. Because we talk about girly stuff, just not THAT girly of stuff.

And then, before I know it, with the products and the packaging and then all the stuff on my desk, like my:

Favourite hand cream (because my hands get dry!)
and tea (because I get thirsty)
and magazines (because I want to know how Nicole Richie's baby's doing too!)
and UHU sticks (sometimes I need to glue!)
and Sharpie markers (and label things)
and a candle (in case I need to be romantic)
and a nail file (to amuse me when I'm waiting for the stupid SCHEDULE program to load)...

my office may appear (IN SOME PEOPLE'S eyes) to be very messy (IN SOME PEOPLE'S opinions). But I disagree. Like a favourite book or sweater that's falling apart, I maintain that my office is just WELL-LOVED.

Still... after madly rushing around to try and tidy everyone into a respectable place: Sharpies in the pen holder! Magazines in the magazine rack! this is how my morning played out.

Me (to beauty PR girls): "I'm warning you, my office is a little messy."

"That's okay," they reply. What else could they say? "Really? In that case, we're just going to take our beauty products and go." Obviously not.

We get to my office. One of the girls looks around. "Actually, it's not that messy. It's usually much worse." Ha. Ha.

They leave (after giving me the products). One of my coworkers comes in.

She: "Wow. What happened?" As though she can't even figure it out.

Me: "Very funny. I cleaned."

She: "Wow. Why?" As though, just like some people don't wear skirts and some people don't wear makeup, I don't clean my office.

Me: "I had a meeting."

She: "Wow. You should have meetings in your office more often."

Me: "Yes, thanks. Farewell."

Five minutes later, another girl in my office stops by.

"Wowwwwwwwwww....." she draws it out, looking around. "What is going on?"

"Nothing. I cleaned."

"Wowwwww............. You should clean more often. Usually it's so...."

"Well-loved?" I suggest.

"No," she shakes her head. "I was going to say messy."



vickie said...

I have visions of your office looking like a smaller, more-cramped Shopper's Drug Mart. Only, like, with a desk and a computer.

Laural Dawn said...

I'm jealous.
My office is filled with crap - but it's all marketing stuff like trophies and ornaments and pens. I want beauty products.
And, I routinely get told my office is too messy. Our ceo was talking about implementing a "clean office policy" and so whenever he comes to our floor (not that often) I close my door!!!

chantel simmons said...

Let's swap! I'll trade you a lipgloss for a trophy! Then I'd get some respect!

And if your CEO is looking for a cleanup incentive, tell him MOVIE PASSES. Every so often my boss has a "It's time to clean up your office and everyone has to and the prize is.... MOVIE PASSES" drive! And guess who wins MOVIE PASSES every single time?

That's Because the trick is, when you keep your office messy, it's wins MOST IMPROVED every time!

Take that, neat freaks.