I was ambling around downtown Winston-Salem last night around 7, and happened past this cubicle. I took the picture with my phone.

Depressing Cubicle

It’s below street level, so you are looking down at the employee as you walk past.

As if that wasn’t depressing enough, the image itself struck me. There’s a lot going on here.

The chair looks like the one you see in a hotel room. No support, uncomfortable.

The cubicle is dirty (from age). See the cupboard cover in the upper right.

She has added a tapestry to the carpeted cubicle wall, though it is nearly as colorless as everything else. I am assuming she is a she, from the Lladro-style figurine of a woman in the exposed cupboard shelf and the nearly depleted Purell dispenser, plus the tapestry itself. One visible picture of family or friends, stood under the monitor where she sees it many times every day, consciously or not.

Two visitor chairs, different color from her chair, in a cramped space. And a banker’s box under her desk, because she has so little space.

An actual rubber stamp, next to the beige (!) adding machine, next to the mousepad centered where she must have to lift her arms over it to type. And the Cisco-style VOIP phone with papers falling over it.

I wonder if she even thinks about any of this. Maybe not.

We all get used to our spaces. Then they fade into our background.