The devil wears beige: Part III - Settling in

As the next week rolled around, the atmosphere completely shifted. It felt like a breath of fresh air and it seemed like the others felt that way as well. Relief. While Sharon was away I finally got the chance to properly meet the girls. They were the absolute sweetest, kindest people. The reluctance to ask questions I had felt at first with Sharon went away instantly as everyone offered to help me. The newness of the situation started to turn into familiarity. There was less fear of the unknown, (and the known).

The girls really opened up to me now that Sharon couldn’t block every interaction and redirect them to herself. But still, I felt it was too early to mention the elephant in the room. Lunch was the best moment of the work day. We’d get food together, sit in the garden and chat about everything from tv shows to astrology. I highly appreciated these two weeks. The girls made me feel welcome and I knew we were going to be friends. I wondered if they had similar experiences with Sharon, or if it was just me as I work the closest with her. Did she have a split personality that only I got to witness? Or were they just ignoring her? If only I could.

Sitting at my desk without someone breathing down my neck gave me the chance to really take in my surroundings. This was where I would spend most of my time in the coming months. I was quickly getting used to the bugs in the office, I had no choice. The mosquitos that normally reign the city by night, were here all day. The pond and the garden surrounding the space are home to all sorts of insects and the gap under the door and the cracks in the walls and ceiling welcomed them in. It was already a morning routine to spray the most toxic mosquito repellent all over your body upon arrival, if not you wouldn’t stand a chance. I was still covered in red bumps that would haunt me after office hours. Beetles would fly around buzzing and landing in people’s hair, especially mine. It is green and I am honoured to be mistaken for a plant.
At first, I was skittish to have them all around me. The flying creatures are of Jurassic size compared to those in the city. But soon I became the self-assigned bee saviour of the office. The ants were our favourites. When they weren’t crawling over your arms and legs, they would march over your computer screen greeting your daily tasks. 

The office was built somewhere in the 1800’s and was begging for a renovation. Even looking at the building gave you the feeling of breathing in asbestos. The walls have been painted white at some point, but with all the rain coming down through the ceiling, you couldn’t really call it white anymore. Something would always break when it stormed. It was full of exposed cables so usually the wifi was the victim. A few plants have found their way through the cracks in the roof and they hang from the ceiling like lianas. When it was windy, dust would drizzle down, often accompanied by dead bugs. Overall, being inside wasn’t very different from being outside. Over the months I have worked there I have experienced the peak of summer and the lows of winter. During the latter it was custom to not only wear your jacket inside, but also to have multiple blankets, heat pads, scarves and hats. At one point we would even tear cardboard boxes apart to put them under our feet in an attempt to stop the shivering.

Our office wasn’t the only one that needed a makeover. The building attached to ours was having its roof renovated not long after I started. As a result, the dust clouds from the broken roof entered our space due to the lack of isolation. Your mouth would become dry and you could taste the dirt. We wore face masks to breathe despite the dust, but after an hour or two all of us would be coughing. I decided to talk to Heinz about it - who was in the same room as us - because he wasn’t going to do anything about it himself.
‘Heinz, we can’t work like this. We are all coughing and this can’t be healthy, who knows what is in that roof.’ I tell him. He scoffs at me.
‘You see, this is the issue with working with only women. All of you are such drama queens!’ He laughs at himself.
‘Excuse me..?’ I say in astonishment. I knew talking to him about anything related to our health would be difficult but he never seized to surprise me.
‘Pfff sureee poor ladies who can’t breathe. I am fine! Do you think that the construction workers next door are whining like all of you girls here?’ He asks me.
‘First of all, they have the equipment to protect themselves from breathing in the dust, they wear proper masks. And secondly, working in that environment is a part of their job. Our job description doesn’t contain breathing in asbestos!’ I tell him. He just laughs back at me and says ‘You see, drama queens! This is what I mean.’ I try to stay professional and squint a tight smile on my face. ’Do you want us all to get sick and not work at all? Everyone is coughing. If you just let us work from home you will avoid that. You know that this is not ok.’ Eventually, after everyone voiced their concerns, he’d let us work from home for the afternoon. But not without ridiculing us a few more times. 

Working from home, even though it has been normalised by the majority of companies for at least one day a week since the pandemic, is seen by Heinz as not working at all. He will not have it. If you are out of his sight, he is convinced that you are not working at all. There were lots of secret stories about past employees, as there were so many of them. Quite recent files would still have a bunch of names I’ve never heard of, indicating a high turnover rate. I was advised not to ask too many questions, but I was able to wiggle this one out of my colleague. A previous colleague who used to work from home some days a week, upon her quitting publicly declared (in Heinz’s face) that she never worked when she was home and he basically paid for her afternoons of shopping. I envy the satisfaction this must’ve given her. I salute this woman. 

As I said, since that incident no one is allowed to work from home, except Sharon. 3 days a week even. Sharon is a mother, and boy, have we heard about it. Her working from home is never ever questioned, and it is not the only indicator that our boss respects mothers more than childless women. On the days she would work from home, we would receive her good morning message and after 10 minutes or so, her icon would switch to absent. When you would receive a call, she was somehow always walking her dog, at the playground with her kid or doing groceries. 20 minutes before lunch you would be bombarded with messages of micromanagement and preferably she would call you as lunch started, just to go over some things that didn’t even need to be discussed. 

Two weeks into the job I got my first performance/satisfaction review. We would get these every 6 months and I happened to have started right before the summer review. This was my chance to prevent some serious complications for myself. I knew that once my period was going to hit, I wouldn’t be able to go to the office. Getting there would be hell. I wouldn’t be able to stand straight or stop moaning from the pain and crying. There’s absolutely no need for any of my colleagues or especially my boss to witness that.
‘So, Heinz, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about.’ I start. ‘Yes?’ He looks up from the review paper. ‘Well, I suffer from really rough menstrual symptoms’ An expression of a cornered animal appears on Heinz his face. ‘And I was wondering, if it would be possible, to maybe work from home when I get my period..?’ I ask him. ‘Sure. Yes. Fine.’ He says quickly and organises his papers not meeting my eyes. ‘Because, it gets really bad and I don’t think-’ 
‘I already said yes! I mean, it’s fine.’ And he’s up from his chair heading inside.

Every day that I worked from home, Sharon would video call me around 4 to 5 times a day. Just to ‘check in on how I’m feeling’. Aka, to see if I’m really at home working. ‘Ow my poor poor child!’ She would say. ‘I mean, I barely notice my period. Ever! But I heard some women really struggle with it.. Have you tried putting a heating pad on your tummy?’ 

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The devil wears beige: Part IV - The Return

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Learning to love my belly