May 01, 2003

I am moved to observe (and comment)

I'm sitting on the upper floor of HQ, typing this on the laptop, precariously balanced on a cardboard box (the laptop, not me), which in turn (the laptop, not the cardboard box) is connected via a quick-and-dirty connection to the skeletal remains of the company network (due to move tomorrow, we are assured by Telkom). There is an unsuprising amount of dust on the floor, to which I am uncomfortably close. I'm alone, and hence, smoking. Ha.

It's a Thursday. And the company is moving. Not very far -- just to a much more spacious building about a 200m away. It's really not that distant from the two buildings, that up until Wednesday night, we occupied. Nevertheless, the company, in its most human-capital-sensitive moment yet, hired a moving company.

It's incredible to watch: a penguin of geeks, ambling around, gently wafting back and forth between the old and the new spaces, while a gang of sweaty, yellow-T-shirt clad men lug our office detritus into a moving van. That will then take, oh, about 3 minutes to drive to the new building (out office park, down the road for a couple of meters, and right into the new parking space. Which, I am told, is already not big enough for us. Ah, well.)

I do not like moving. I hate moving. I loathe moving. If it were human, I'd be locked up for committing a moving violation. And I'd have done it with malice, foresight, and a large blunt object (most likely the humour of Nkosasana Zuma).

But this move -- this superb, stunning, chilled gathering -- has proven to be the most delightful movement, barring the bowel, I've ever had the pleasure of being around to witness.

All praise the company. All praise the yellow-T-shirt men. Someone else sweated on our behalf, while we swanned about the new offices, laying claim to good lighting, and the chairs that don't squeak.

I, and all the others of the new Order, are moved.

  :::  a Work ritual performed at 03:06 PM   :::