In the open plan office the dynamics, interaction, politics, focus, frustration and pressure all crowd in alongside the small talk, lack of personal space and the wider work environment. Some days all that’s left is an expletive.
F**k the open plan office
Today I’m really busy.
Have lots of things to do.
I’m really very focused.
On these issues being pushed through.
I know the office layout.
Is designed to encourage debate.
And whilst sometimes I’d enjoy this.
Today has a different fate.
I don’t care what you did last night.
Or what was on TV.
Frankly I’m only interested in,
My work, today it’s a priority.
So please notice that my nodding.
Really isn’t that engaged.
And my uh-huhs and lack of eye contact.
Is real, the annoyance isn’t staged.
Your constant fucking wittering.
Is driving me insane.
Will you shut the fuck up for a minute.
Your conversation is inane.
Great, here comes the charity collector.
“What really, 100 miles for sick toys?”
I honestly couldn’t care less today.
You’re just adding to the noise.
And now the megaphone voice manager.
With nothing else to do.
So they walk around, annoying.
And joining in with you.
So I know these work issues.
Really needed pushing through.
But this out of control office.
Fuck it, Fuck them, Fuck you.
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This poem is narrated by Andy Denham.