Heather

I used to play "office" when I was a little girl. I was the manager and I dressed my just-out-of-pampers brother in Grandma's old clip-on earring and a sack-like frock from my infamous dress up box - he was my secretary (yes, as now as adult, I don't adhere to such stereotypes - they are now administrative assistants and I think it is more than acceptable for a man to hold that position - in fact it's kind of hot). Now, I work in an office and I have been existing in this environment for the last 10 years and it comes as a bit of surprise to me to say I'm okay with it - I'm not in love with corporate culture, but I'm okay with it and "okay with it" works for me - for now. Urges to break free of the fluorescent lights and an eternally dusty work space are kept at bay because I usually hold positions that require some creative or critical thinking. When that's absent, I find moments in the day to indulge myself. The cube's neutral fabric walls afford me with imaginative thought. It can't be helped. The blankness insists upon it.