A friend of mine from Boone told me that once I spent a summer down here in Winston, my blood would thin out and I'd turn into some kind of cold weather wuss. I don't know enough about the human circulation system to know whether blood actually does that sort of thing after a period of hot weather - seems like a Southern expression with no scientific basis - but the wuss part seems to be true.
My office is freezing, which is another expression with no scientific basis. They're doing some construction downstairs, and it seems like they jimmied with the air system. At least that's my excuse. I bought a space heater this weekend, one so tiny that I skeptically kept my receipt because I didn't think it could do the job. Until my investment, though, I borrowed a heater from a guy down the hall who sat in his short sleeved t-shirt and laughed at my shivering misery.
I liked the little heater that I was borrowing. It had a bunch of automatic functions for temperature control, but I could never figure out how to use them, so I just stuck with the "On" setting, because that seemed to work just fine. I also worked with the "Off" setting when the "On" setting got to working too well. And now I have my very own, and I think that I will be able to throw away the receipt and write my name carefully with a Sharpie on it so that no one will steal it. I've only had it a day, but I've become very attached to it, because it's awfully cute and only cost me twelve dollars - I was expecting to have to spend at least twenty. Also, I've figured out how to use the thermostat on this one, because it came with instructions, so that's another one up on the borrowed model.
So I come in every morning and turn on the heater. Then I shut my office door and huddle at my desk until the contraption works its heating magic. Then I take off my jacket and often my shoes. Sometimes I drink hot tea, too, like a Brit in a sauna at 4 pm.
The added perk of using this thing is that I get to close my door. I rarely close my office door because it seems unfriendly. And while I probably am unfriendly, I hate to seem that way. Previously, I only closed the door to use the phone or when I was so swamped with work that I wanted to discourage visitors. But this extra privacy bonus of using a heater is nice. I can turn my music up a little louder and worry less about the disapproving stares I may attract by pulling my legs up into my chair with me like a little kid. No more do I have to worry whether I'm supposed to respond to the people who give me a passing hello on the way to the bathroom and then again on the way back three minutes later. For some reason, I feel more productive and the day goes by more quickly with a closed door. I get twice as much web surfing done as I did before. People still stop by to chat and make sure that I am still alive, and I talk to them nicely and try not to think about all the warmth they are letting out as they stand blithely in my open doorway. Then, when those people leave, they never shut the door properly, because my door doesn't latch. And so I have to wait a little while before I go and close the door the rest of the way, because if I do it too soon, then I seem really rude, rather than just really cold and really anal-retentive.
The only real downside is when one particular guy stops by to ask me some question about the software that I'm working on, he always knocks twice and then calls out, "You decent?" It was funny the first couple of times, but now I just want to say, "Yes. I am always decent while I am at work. I do not take my clothes off at my place of employment, particularly in an office whose door does not latch." But that would be unfriendly, and I hate to seem that way.
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