As much as I would like to have someone to watch over my desk at work when I am out of the office, that is not what I am talking about when I refer to a desk sitter. (Actually I did sort of try that with a co-worker once, but no one can constantly surveil my cubicle, so it didn’t work so well). A desk sitter is a person who comes to my cubicle to talk to me and decides that she needs to plant her posterior on top of my desk.
I don’t understand this scenario. I have never felt the need to sit on another person’s desk. There are times when a conversation has become lengthy and I have leaned against a cubicle wall, but why an individual in good health cannot stand up for five or ten minutes is beyond me.
The perpetrator of the offense against me was a co-worker (not the one previously mentioned) who was taking a break from work, and she walked up with a catalog. She thought that I would be interested in some items in it. I really wasn’t, but I humored her for a couple of minutes. Then she suddenly decided that her legs could no longer hold her up, and she proceeded to contaminate my desk. I was very disappointed in her as this particular person knows how I feel about desk-sitting. I believe it was a momentary lapse on her part, but those lapses cause me great anxiety and, frankly, cost me money. Cleanup is not cheap. Out came the napkins and rubbing alcohol to save the day.
As I said, this co-worker knows I have OCD, and she likes to say how she notices the disgusting things that other people in the office do. She has expressed dismay at the number of non-washers with whom we work. She has said that she doesn’t eat at office potlucks anymore due to this fact. Still, certain connections are not made in the brains of individuals who do not have OCD. The aforementioned catalog the co-worker brought to share with me I recognized as having come from the restroom. Yes, someone takes magazines and catalogs into the bathroom at work as reading material. Bathroom reading is another practice I have never quite understood, but despite that, I could not help thinking how many times that catalog had been sprayed with toilet water. Every time the toilet is flushed that thing gets covered. Not only that, has it been touched by clean hands alone? Its home has been a bathroom stall right next to a toilet with no lid. I realize that another name for this place is the restroom, but people do not go in there to rest. There is no possible way for the catalog not to be filthy. I politely pointed this out to her, and she said that she knew but really wanted to show me something in it. Nothing is that spectacular, thank you anyway!
People may try to comprehend the way the OCD mind works, but it is something truly understood only by insiders. By relating my experiences, I hope to shed some light on this phenomenon for families and friends of sufferers and for those who are simply curious.