Swivel chair monologue

I tolerated it. She sat on me for two years. Intially she sat on my neighbour, but somehow she changed her mind and chose me instead.

She bought me a colourful pillow friend some months into the job. Fed up with the boring blue cubicle, she went to IKEA to get some pretty cloths, some plants and the pillow to do up her space. You know, give it a bit of identity.

I have seen her weep, heard her laugh, listened as she screamed at students over the phone, eavesdropped on her private conversations with her closer colleagues and watched her typing away at her laptop and rummaging her drawer for food.

She has a little fat round butt and she loves to plonk it down on me. Her favourite is to kick off her shoes and sit cross-legged on me while hugging the pillow. Sometimes, when she is tired, she tilts back her head and shuts her eyes for a while.

Today is the last day she will sit on me. I saw her cleaning out her cubicle since last Friday. She took away my pillow friend and the jacket covering me yesterday. I feel so bare and alone now.

But in two days time, this new guy Wee will come and rest his rear on me and make this place his own. I wonder what he would be like. Would he find me a friend? Dump things on me? Push me gently into my resting space under the desk when he leaves at the end of every day?

I hate meeting new butts and getting used to their smelly farts. I wish we only had one owner during our lifespan. “Can we?”

p.s. if you don’t understand, ask me my new colleague’s name.

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