I hate elevator talk. This morning, I was greeted with the following: "So, how're things in the conference room? I saw you were moved."
As promised, I was moved out of my cube last week. Into another cube. On a different floor. It kind of feels like I've been voted off the IT island. The good thing is, I'm pretty secluded and don't have the pleasure of listening to 4 or 5 conversations at any given time.
But I do have to deal with a lot of questions. A lot of the same questions:
Q: Why did they move you down here?
A: There was no room for the new consultant, so they gave him my cube.
Q: Why didn't they move you to the conference room?
A: Well, initially, it was because they didn't have a desk for me in there. It eventually turned political and the "appropriateness" of me moving to a conference room/office became the focus.
Q: Is your boss moving too?
A: Uh, no.
Q: Are you still in IT?
A: Uh, yeah...
Q: So why aren't you up there?
A: There's no room.
Q: Are they going to make room for you up there so you can go back?
A: Uh, not that I'm aware of.
Q: Aren't you lonely?
A: I'm not here at work to socialize...
To be honest, once it was determined that if I were to move, I would be moving downstairs all by myself (meaning I'm not around people I work with - they haven't stuck me in a storage room or anything... yet), I was given the choice to stay where I was.
I talked it over with my boss, and we (being logical types) mapped out the pros and cons of each location. They were equal. He gave me a couple hours to think it over, and when it was time to let him know my decision, I did the logical thing and consulted an expert.
Stupid eight ball...