While I was on maternity leave my office went through some major renovations to create additional space for another team we were absorbing. What this ultimately meant for me was that my old cubicle (which was HUGE) was going to become two real offices and, more importantly, that I would get an office! With walls and a door! Yippee!
Except for one thing. All the offices here have floor to ceiling windows…and no blinds. This by itself isn’t a huge deal, but it became a concern when I realized I would be pumping in said office as there really is NO WHERE else to go (with an electrical outlet) that offers any more privacy. On my first day back I was in a temporary office (which unfortunately was the first office one sees upon entering our floor) and a few of the secretaries jimmy-rigged some wrapping paper over the window so I could carry on with some dignity. Did it look good? No way. But it did the trick. The huge windows facing the outside were another issue, but one about which I cared less.
Imagine my excitement when I noticed a new office converted from an old file room in the back, at the end of a hallway that lacked the window! It was referred to as “the cave” and was slated to just be an extra office for visitors. Well, I campaigned hard and got the office! (Okay, it wasn't hard. No one else wanted it. Actually everyone was surprised I would want it when I had a much more central office with my name on it.) Anyway, renovations were completed and we moved in last week. I’m loving this space. Windows into neighboring offices were placed way up high along the ceiling ensuring privacy but making it less cave-like than one might think. And it’s huge, but that doesn’t really matter. I have privacy!
Or so I thought.
Imagine if you will my shock and horror yesterday when, while pumping, someone knocks on my closed door. Before I can even answer a certain maintenance worker walks in smiling and proceeds to ask me about the lighting and ceiling tiles.
I, in the second I had to process that this was really happening, had all but dove under my desk and ripped the device off my lactating mammories. I groped around for the pump’s Off switch and tried to cover the girls up…all while he chatted away about ceiling tiles.
So that happened.
After he left I regained my composure and resumed pumping. I had just gotten into a good rhythm (if ya know what I mean) when I looked up to see his face through the window in the neighboring office. The window that stretches along just under the 14 foot ceiling? Yeah. He was in there on a ladder working on, you guessed it, ceiling tiles.
I gave up.
And then I went home.
I figured I had earned it.
And I’d much rather feed my baby myself anyway.