My kingdom for a door on my little, humble workspace...

All I'd like to do is sit, undisturbed, while I think over recent events of the past, ponder the future, and wake up thanks to the chemical compound known as Diet Coke. To think, perchance to daydream. Undisturbed.

It's not that I don't like my coworkers - they really are the best bunch I've worked with. It's not that I'm not interested in Culture Club double CDs or the new season of Buffy starting tonight. I care - really.

It's not my fellow wage slaves' fault that my cubicle doesn't come equipped with a door. I am one step up on Nessman - at least my fortress of (un)solitude has walls.