Until the open office revolution reared its ugly head, I never gave much thought to workspaces. Though unremarkable, my offices were always just fine.
And then Corporate America became besotted with the promised miracles of open offices. Without walls separating people, creativity would flow. Collaboration would flourish and we would be more productive. We kind of expected whiter teeth and smarter kids, too.
I’m happy to see more articles talking about the downsides of cubicle farms. I think very fondly of my years at work, but not of the years my team and I spent in the basement (try though they might, they could never get us to call it the lower level) in our “veal pens.”
And now my I work at my kitchen counter. Or a comfortable armchair. Or, when I’m in Italy as I am this week, here.
It’s yet another thing I love and appreciate about retirement.