Today I was trolling about my office asking for some blog ideas. My colleague J. suggested I write about my drawer of toys. (She’s the one who suggested my post about hugging, so she has a good sense of my material.)

I showed her this drawer for her amusement about a month ago. I forget why I revealed my treasures, but she wasn’t too surprised that I had a box full of toys in my office. Action figures, barbies, cartoon characters, a little train on a tiny track and lots of other odd things — yeah, I have toys. A whole box in my credenza right beside the more likely occupant of files.

They used to be displayed in my office on a shelf and on my window ledge. I also had a string of party lights shaped like cactuses around the perimeter of the ceiling — I stayed late after work to install them. I sometimes turned off my lights to work by the cactus glow. It got me in the mood to write things.

But one day the toys got put in a box. That was the day I moved to a bigger office because a baby was born and I had to start wearing more suits and shoes that did not reveal much of my personality. And as smaller meetings were a more frequent occurrence in my new office, toys I felt, would not set the correct tone.

When the baby was bigger, I moved back to my old office. And back into my old wardrobe — suits when necessary, colourful sneakers when not.

But for some reason I did not unpack my toys. I unpacked a few — and there was an office move in there as well — but most remained in the box.

Right now I have an Etch-A-Sketch on my desk and an Ernie figurine on my filing cabinet. Plus, a few other small knick-knacks like my fish-shaped stress-ball. Nothing that would raise any eyebrows.

Oh wait, there is the disco ball hanging in my window. Hardly anyone ever mentions though — I guess it’s not so exciting without the spotlight.

UPDATE:

I know you all believe every word I write, but I felt compelled to provide visual proof.

Disco Ball.


The toys really should come out and be cleaned. I have abandoned them. Look at how sad they look!


I didn’t write about this because most people find it creepy. It’s a carnival prize from pre-war Europe. It was a gift — and yeah, I liked it!

I was talking last week with someone who told me that consultants must deal extremely well with ambiguity. They test for this skill set when hiring.

I guess I won’t ever become a consultant. (One of my colleagues thinks I’d be a great consultant because I am really good at drafting plans and telling other people the way they should do things. She’s kidding and I’m not going anywhere. But I do draft a mean plan and I’m often right about most things. ;))

Why is consulting not in my future? Well the suits for one, but the real reason is because I dislike ambiguity.

I like the fact that there’s a meeting every week at the same time and in the same place. I like the fact that I bring a chart to the meeting. Then, I like taking the chart back to my office and updating it so it’s current. This way everyone knows what’s going on. It’s all there on my colour-coded chart.

I don’t need to schedule every moment of a holiday — I book in ample free time on another one of my colour-coded charts 😉 — but I do like to research and plan the key places to visit and make at least one restaurant reservation in advance. I also like to research hotels more than most people. (I am actually a delightful travel companion — really.)

I plan what I am going to wear the next day the night before. Okay, not on weekends, but virtually every work day. I hate going to sleep with any doubt about the pants I want to wear being clean.

I could go on. I have many more examples, but I am not liking where this post is going. I am sounding very rigid. Set in my ways. Boring, even.

In fact, some people would say that I am actually very spontaneous and fun-loving. And yeah, I love to have a good time and to do things sometimes on the spur of the moment. But spur of the moment is not my default state. However, fun is — so that seems to make up for my — ahem — tendencies.