The new office, originally uploaded by .Ariel.

At work, there’s this shared music server. Coworkers can queue up music to play on speakers through-out our corner of the office. Anyone can load up whatever they want from the collection on the server.

Cool idea, except I HATE THE MUSICAL TASTE OF MY COWORKERS. (Sorry, everyone.) This is because I’m obscenely picky about the music I listen to when I’m working. Lyrics fuck me up when I’m writing or editing. And I find guitars jangly. And emo makes me depressed. And classical can get screechy with the violins. Etc etc etc. Basically, I’m a prissy, particular bitch who needs complete and total auditory control over her workspace.

Luckily for me, my boss is the same way. An email thread went around a couple weeks ago asking who felt strongly about the public music, and my boss and I were two of the only people who came out on the side of intolerance and grumpiness and said “WE HATE IT.”

And so what happening? My boss and I were offered the option of relocating away from the open-floorplan part of the office to our own little room around the corner, which we will share. My boss was a little dubious at first (the little office gets almost no natural light and is isolated) but then I started talking about how we could swank it up — make a little seating area with nice chairs and a rug, bring in some plants, some floor lamps, etc — and we decided we’d do it.

So now we’ve moved into our own private “grumpy bitches who don’t like everyone else’s music” room. We’ve got big plans. I’ve already got my lenticular virgin Mary up on the wall, and we’ve got my boss’ awesome orange chair. But there’s also an orange rug and some Blik on order. As for music? It’s Groovesalad or nothing in our little room.