or dread it when they have loud meetings on the other side of my cubewall and drown out the loud volume on my ipod, or
sigh over my "view," that of communal paper supplies and institutional files, or
whine about being frozen out by piped in Arctic air from airplane-jet loud vents, or
get skeeved out about cleaning up evidence of insect and rodent visitors to my desk ...I'm thankful that I DON'T have to work in the saddest cubicle in America. That 'honor' was awarded to someone else. This poor guy's desk is "penned in by heavily used filing cabinets in a windowless conference room, near a poorly ventilated bathroom and a microwave. The overhead light doesn't work -- his mother-in-law was so saddened by his cube that she gave him a lamp -- and the other side of the wall is a parking garage. " See?
I'm grateful. Really. I'm very thankful that I'm gainfully employed in a stable organization.