Office Move

My office recently relocated from the dinkytown neighborhood of Minneapolis to a nearby suburb.  Whereas I used to be able to walk across the street for a good cup of coffee or lunch, now nothing is that close.  Our old site was a suite in an old high school that had been converted for office use.  The place was dripping with character and reminders of its past.  The owners hadn't tried to hard to hide the building's previous use - our manufacturing floor was part of the old gym, the free throw and boundary lines still visible.  Old blackboards still hung in some of the other rooms.  It was an interesting place to work, filled with nooks and crannies.

Part of what made the old office building interesting was some of the other tenants.  The space adjacent to ours housed a small shop where a couple of guys spent their time building (or perhaps repairing) violins and other stringed instruments.  I have to admit, I kind of envied those guys.  They always seemed relaxed, even laid-back.  The door to their suite had a big window and it never seemed like they were rushing or pressed for time.  Either they were much better at managing schedules than me or perhaps the type of work they were doing was of a nature that couldn't be hurried.  Whatever the case, they seemed less harried than I often felt. 

The lower floor of the building contained a number of small offices - apparently perfect for your typical grass-roots movement.  I remember there was a pro-environment one and an anti-war one and a get-out-the-vote one and a bunch of others.  These places were the source of the incessant, clipboard toting pollsters that accosted me on the street corners.  I got the sense that these groups shared members - the anti-war guy on the corner on Tuesday looked suspiciously like the clean-water guy out there on Thursday.  The clipboard folks seem passionate, which makes them interesting and sometimes a little frightening.

My new office is a suite in a standard office park.  The walls are beige; the carpet is mauve - same color scheme as a place I worked about five years ago.  When I step out the door I enter a sea of parking lots and other, almost identical, office buildings.  Our suite is isolated from the one next to us so I have no idea what sort of business my neighbor does.  This is a familiar world for me - I've spent most of my career working in places exactly like this.  My four years in dinkytown was an anomaly which, sadly, came to an end.  But I don't mind the new location that much.  After all, it is very familiar and that lends a certain degree of comfort.  The commute is easier and about the same distance, although I don’t know if I'll be able to find a suitable bike route. 

My biggest regret over leaving the old place is that it was such a good source of blog material.