Every weekday morning is packed and hurried. I’m trying to get from my house to my desk in less than an hour. By the time I get to my desk, I want to sit down, open up thestar.com and theglobeandmail.com, and eat my coffee and toast.
For 10 minutes in my morning, I want to be quietly left alone. The thing is, it rarely happens. Random drop-bys from people asking how my weekend was to the hokey guy whose cubicle is next to mine who always has to say “howdy neighbour!” interrupt my sacred time.
Unfortunately when I’m disturbed the not-so-nice side of me comes out. I’m short, abrupt, and cold. After answering their question, I leave no room for further conversation. I turn back to my laptop and continue reading the news.
Is it mean? Yes, I guess so. But for me to function normally for the rest of the day, to be pleasant and professional, to be value-adding person to the office, I need my 10 minutes.
10 measly minutes… is that too much to ask for?
