That's assault, brother!

So they moved me off my old floor here at work.

Now that's fine, even though I was surrounded by my friends down there. 3 people that I hang out with almost every weekend were in a radius around me, no more than 2 cubes away... and that was awesome, being around my friends. But I was also around a bunch of people that I didn't care for and vice versa.

So they moved me up, 4 floors, into another department where I know nobody but the guy that sits next to me. He's a CRA, like me, and has nowhere to belong either. All the other CRAs work from home.

This floor. SUCKS.

First of all, we are tucked into this corner of the building, and the women who sit in this room like to SHOUT across the room to each other about the cases they're working on. This is no normal talking through the cube walls. This is stand up on the table, lunchtime poll in the cafeteria- kind of shouting.

I mean, I know that it's a burning question- whether or not "increased urinary tract infection would be coded just urinary tract infection or chronic urinary tract infections?" (Oh, come on- that was funny!) But... do we need to shout about it? And then six people weigh in with their opinion- at which point the original asker says "Okay, that's what I thought." And you know, I could've hugged the person that said "Then why did you ask?"

HAH!

Right now, they're having a loud discussion about how they want to meet Monica, whomever that is.

Wait, wait, wait. I forgot the Thursday girl. She only comes in on Thursdays- and she sits in the cube right next to me. Last week she was practically SCREAMING about her daughter's combination diaper rash/yeast infection. I am throwing up in my mouth as I type this.

Did I mention that it's BLAZING HOT on this floor? Yes, it's as hot as Dante's Inferno in here.

And then there are the smells... someone is CONSTANTLY eating over-ripe bananas. And if there's one thing that grosses me out... it's BANANAS. Oh, they make me sick. I don't even like to be in the same room as one. And to have to sit here and smell one in this little bitty oven of a room where people are talking really loudly... it's just TOO MUCH.

Wait, did I tell you about the day that someone ate an over-ripe banana and then for lunch had some sort of smelly FISH?! Please just kill me now.

Oh, and I forgot to mention- there's a bathroom no more than, say, 15 yards from my cube around the corner? You can just imagine. But you shouldn't.

I have been aurally, olfactorily and tactilely (is that a word?!) assaulted multiple times since I got to this floor. And I miss my friends.

I think I'm being punished.