We're not that close.

Just when I think I have nothing to bitch about (that I haven't already anyways) I find something! I'd call her the new girl, but she isn't that new, in any sense of the word. She sits in the cube adjacent, and i'm sure is a lovely woman, but let's go with a tad on the essentric side.

I can appreciate the funky jewelry, the non-corporatey attire, the spikey hair, the exercise ball she uses for a chair...all endearing qualities in the older women. I can even deal with the unsolicited stories and comments and questions, it's all friendly. But, as non-territorial as I thought I was, I can not take space invasion.

There is such a thing as personal space. You know, the aura around oneself that you do not invade unless you are going to make out with the person? Yeah, that one. There are also personal spaces in the office, i.e. the cubical. True, there is no 'door' but if there was, you know where it would be and you don't cross the line without prior [permission or at least knowledge of the owner. This chic has no concept of this. Not once, but twice TODAY she has been IN my cube riffleing through my shit. Once, I didn't even notice right away. She had to have snuck up behind me and started looking at whatever is piled on the desk behind me as I hear papers being moved around. I almost didn't want to turn around because I knew who it was and didn't want to engage in conversation.

Which I'd like to note is a pretty clear and unsubtle sign, if I'm not looking at you i'm not interested.

Then again she asks me some random question and walks right into my cube and picks up some trinket on the back of my desk and starts asking questions about it. Do I go into your cube and poke through your stuff? No. NO ONE DOES THAT!!! Ok, maybe if we're friends, we do lunch, we get drinks, we hit the gym, we chat, but we're not that close. I am working on a subtle friendly, but clear way to communicate the fact that I expect you to stay on your side and do your work and not comment on anything going on over here in this cube. It is invisible to you.

I should have seen this one coming. The 2nd day she was here she was talking to us with joking mannerism that would imply she had been here forever and we had inside jokes together. Hard to put your finger on and describe, but you know it when it happens. Not one of us yet. Sorry. Social demerit. Give me back my plastic candy corn man and get back in your cube. Go.