Wuthering Height

I think I work in an office of short people.

There is no worry about someone crying about Christmas decorations in our offices and the folks who work in the daytime are going like gangbusters to show off how much they can decorate. My only problem is that I’m 6’7� in my work boots and these folks have no sense of what happens there when the sun goes down or some such affliction.

Yesterday was tinsel day. I know this because when I arrived at my secondary office near the end of the workday, there are multiple strands of tinsel strung across the walls in the long, and somewhat narrow workspace we all occupy. My desk is at the back of that workspace and I now have a gauntlet of low hanging clothesline like tinsel to duck and dodge in order to get to my terminal to work. Someone under the height of 5’10� would not have a problem. But I’m screwed.

I haven’t seen most of the folks who work during the day in a while. I may have to arrive at work early this afternoon to reacquaint myself with them and to see if maybe we hired a bunch of gnomes and no one bothered to tell me. I’ll give out subtle hints about their décor until I get the “Oh my, those are quite low, aren’t they?� response, at which time I’ll ask if they want me to ‘reaffix’ their tinsel a tad bit higher later that night.

I’m willing to spend a few minutes of company time avoiding the possibility of “Wrestling with the Silver Octopus” on some random morning when I forget to watch where I’m walking.