cellio: (Default)
[personal profile] cellio

Before the pandemic, I went to the office every day, as one does. Our office manager did what he could to make it an ok environment, but it has the usual pathologies. Pandemic-induced working from home has been good for me in oh so many ways. I'm fortunate to be at a point in my career where I am quite comfortable telling my employer "I really do insist". (There's some pressure, mild so far.) I'll go to the office if there's a specific reason to, like the group outing we had a few months ago, but most of the people I work with aren't local, so going to the office is social, not productive.

On the day of that outing, I learned -- via a coworker finding out the hard way -- that corporate security disables badges that haven't been used in 90 days. That makes sense, though doing it silently isn't so great. Fortunately for me, I last changed my domain password around the time of that outing, so the "time to change your password" reminder serves double duty.

A few days ago I changed my password, and today I went to the office to wave a badge at a sensor. While I was there I cleared out the last of my personal belongings; demonstrably, I no longer need to keep an umbrella or a spare USB charging cable in my desk drawer there.

(no subject)

Date: 2022-12-04 11:04 pm (UTC)
sine_nomine: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sine_nomine
At some point I likely have to return to NYC to open the time capsule clean out my cubicle. Haven't been there in nearly three years, and I shudder to think what's there that didn't get done back then.

Edited (Apologies for multiple replies. Errors when posting. ) Date: 2022-12-05 03:26 am (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2022-12-10 05:34 pm (UTC)
jducoeur: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jducoeur

Other people in my local office are probably happy that I had the foresight to purge the fridge on my way out on that last day in March 2020 -- nobody would have been happy about that milk more than a year and a half later.

Yeah, really. My parents live on Sanibel Island, and had to flee ahead of Hurricane Ian.

When my brother got to the house a month later, to start inventorying the disaster of the lower floor and demolishing the walls (they live on a high point, but still got five feet of water), he found that the upper floor (the main living space) was in great shape. Except for the fridge, which was basically a hazardous waste zone to the point where it simply had to be dragged out and thrown away.

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