Roommates

My salad days in my lovely empty office with a window and a door that closes are over. On Monday I was assigned an officemate. When her boss walked her around and introduced us, it took me by such surprise that it was all I could do to mumble out a passingly pleasant, “Hi”. I’ll admit I never manage to say or do the right thing, especially under pressure and on the spot, but I think I was well enough able to conceal my sinking disappointment that I now had to share my space.

Sharing space. I’ve never been especially good at it. Perhaps I can trace it back to my childhood, in which my sister and I were lucky enough to never have to share a room except on vacation. Add to that my generally introverted nature, at least until I become comfortable with another person, and you have someone who is fiercely protective of her metaphorical homestead, whatever that homestead may be.

I was an awful roommate, both in college and after. I’ll be the first to cop to it. Truth is truth. I didn’t let the dishes pile up for weeks or allow strange people to crash with us or use up all the hot water knowing that Roomie needed a shower too. My defects are all about how I deal with conflict. I let things build and fester like a nasty infection until I snap over something miniscule, or just make life unpleasant in general with my silent glaring and snarls. Adult of me, I know, but we all have our faults. Husband is the last roommate I’ve had, but we’ve only experienced minor problems with it because both of us are conflict-averse, and he knows how to recognize and shut me down when I start building up.

In my professional life, however, I have experienced no situation in which I had to share my space. I always had my own cubicle, or at least my own clear work area when I was in the Tech Writers pod at Company 2. Here, however, is a new scenario for me.

Roommate is a very nice woman, bright and lively, polite and quick to smile. I have no cause for complaint about her. Best of all, she is in fact a woman. I was having fits trying to figure out how to handle the Aunt Flo issue with a male officemate. I considered stashing a box of “supplies” in the ladies room, but figured that everyone would take advantage of those and they wouldn’t be there when I needed them. I considered going the makeup bag route, but depending upon how much time Roommate was there and how observant and/or dense he was, I anticipated questions about why it was only one week a month that I seemed to need to touch up my makeup a couple of times a day. Cosmetics are a bitch, Roomie.

So I’m fortunate on that score. But today we’re already running into growing pains. Because I have a conference call at 11 and she has an in-person meeting going on right now, and not only do I know I can’t concentrate on the call with the two of them talking, I also know I won’t be able to concentrate on my work with someone talking – either in a meeting or on the phone in general.

Maybe sound canceling headphones are the answer. Or maybe we’ll have to arrange to work from home on alternating days. Hrm... In the meantime, maybe I need to go to Coworker's actual office instead of being on the call today.