I’m Thinking of Changing My Name to Gollum

Meanwhile, on the 48^th floor, life has changed for Little Miss I’ve-Got-A-Desk-by-a-Window.
With the purchase of our company by a much larger company, there has been much movement.  Those that had offices – some are now in cubes.  Those that had cubes are sharing cubes.
And those of us who once shared cubes?
Welcome.  Come in, won’t you?  It’s ever so lovely in here.  Welcome to the room at the center of the building.  Don’t worry – your eyes will adjust to the darkness.
What?  What’s that?  The roaring fan overhead?  Oh, you’ll get used to that.  Comforting, actually, listening to the white noise.  If you let your mind go all soft and fuzzy, you can hear words. 
Shh.  Did you catch that? 
It’s not too late to take up subsistence farming…  It’s not too late to take up subsistence farming…
Dang fan.
It’s been two days since being assigned a corner in The Cave. 
New names for this particular room, this experiment in communal living, by the way, are still being taken.  The Cave, The Sarcophagus (a favorite of mine), and The Vault are being considered.
My suggestions of “The Heart of Darkness”, “The Dance Floor”, and “The Second Reason Pearl Drinks”, however, have gotten me nothing but suspicious looks.
Not all is lost, of course.  Why, the woman who sits next to me, a lovely person who has been at this very location for almost three years and whom I shall refer to as She Who Has Been Infringed Upon, or, perhaps, “Marsha”, seems to be practically normal, despite the fan’s whispered suggestions.
We'll probably become best friends, her and I.  We’ll probably rent a cabin together later this summer, share bottles of expensive wines while we work up our manifesto, the one in which demand natural light and a fan with a more positive outlook on life.
I shall be happy here.
I believe that.
I shall be happy here.
Come back tomorrow to hear my plans for how The Cave plans to celebrate Naked America!, ie, The Day Minneapolis Hits 50 Degrees.