Social distancing

I work in an open office environment. I find the whole open office concept to be a bit disconcerting. It’s like sharing a tiny studio apartment with the same 78 people every day. Or like hosting guests in my studio apartment who stay on and on and wear out their welcome and refuse to leave. There is no hint that is strong enough to give them the message.

This woman who works directly opposite my workstation, facing me has never spoken to me, except to ask me if I can stop tapping my feet, which I guess I do when I’m listening to music or feeling anxious or both, but I am far from cognizant of it.

Maybe the one and only upside to COVID-19 is that I incessantly step away from my desk to wash or sanitize my hands. At least twice an hour these days. So that is a good distraction from foot tapping.

But then when I return to my desk, I notice I am touching my face, scratching my chin, rubbing my eyes, resting my cheek in the palm of my hand. And then I start tapping my feet again to distract me from face touching.

… which I am certain must be annoying to my neighbor. I guess I am doing quite well with the recommendation for social distancing since I am certain that my neighbor would prefer I keep myself at as much of a distance as possible.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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