Office Space

Here, is my future: I work in an office, in a skyscraper over looking the beautiful city of San Francisco. The building has chrome-like windows that reflect like a wall of mirrors during the day and darken to black at night except for the few windows of glowing light that dot the face of the building.

I sit at my desk looking out at the city through these windows, leaning back in my black leather, cushioned, swivel chair. The Transamerica Pyramid and the Bank of America Center tower over the rest of the high-rises. Peaking out between buildings in the distance, I can see the glistening blue of the San Francisco Bay spotted white with sailboats and the occasional cruise ship coming in and out of the harbor.

I sit behind a deep reddish-brown maple wood desk, the size of a small dining room table scattered with piles of documents, folders, and binders overflowing with papers. Two matching office chairs sit opposite of me match the desk. Sunlight streams in through the windows reflecting off the heavy metal nameplate and a few sterling silver picture frames filled with shots of family that sit atop my desk. Behind my desk, framed parchment-like paper with fancy calligraphy writing depicting my many awards and achievements cover the wall. A heavy bookshelf sits in the corner weighed down by massive reference books. Enlarged photos of my travels all over the world hang from the walls.

The low hum of the overhead fluorescent lights are barely heard over the music from a local radio station playing softly in the background. The drone of muffled voices makes its way through the walls while the sound of daily life floats up from the streets below. Sounds of a busy office persists throughout the day, phones ringing, papers rustling, the sound of metal on metal of file cabinets opening and closing, the ding of elevator doors opening. By all means, it is a very standard office.

I have a different perspective on working than most. For me, a “dream job” that I love is not realistically in my future. I have come to accept that, although I may not look forward to going to work everyday, by working that 9-5 job I will earn the means to do what I love. I love to travel, eat, shop, explore, and most importantly, support my family and if sitting in an office for 8 hours a day is what I have to do to be able to do what I love, then that is what will get me up in the mornings…that is unless I can somehow find a career in personal shopping (and not the kind that involves shopping for others) in exotic places while being a food critic on the side.