In a previous work-life, I was a law firm office manager/psychotherapist. The most frequent complaint I received day in and day out was “my office is too cold/hot.” This topped the list well above she/he is looking at me, she/he is touching me and she/he was mean to me.
When I began my current work-life as a paralegal/docket clerk, I swore that I would never complain about the temperature in my office. I don’t care if I have icicles hanging from my nose or if I’m having a hot flash spawned straight from hell, I never make a peep.
Luckily, I am in the office next door to the office which contains the thermostat for our block of offices. The women in the offices to the right of the thermostat are constantly cold and the women in the offices to the left are always hot. Therefore, at least fifty percent of the time, I’m pretty comfortable.
I attribute my relative comfort to good karma built up from seven years of dealing with temperature whiners with a smile on my face and a sweet, “I’ll call the building,” when I wanted to say, “Bring a sweater,” or “Wear some clothes and stop dressing like a hoochie,” or “Close your blinds,” or “Get some hormones.” Or, “I’m not your mother, I’m not your teacher, I’m not your gynecologist and if you don’t get out of here and let me finish this spreadsheet, I’ll give you something to whine about. Now, calm down and go eat some fruit or something.”