We have a small office space. From where I sit, nobody is more than three desks away from me. It's entirely possible to ask someone two desks away a question in a normal conversational tone, and to slightly raise my voice if I don't feel like getting up and it's a quick yes-or-no question. We also have telephones, which are completely functional.
We also have regular afternoon visits from Boss Lady's seven-year-old son Anklebiter. Anklebiter has been a regular on this blog for a few months now - you might remember him from such entries as Urchin madness and her from such entries as Two things. Now, I fully admit that I'm a lazy shit myself, but Boss Lady and Anklebiter are now working in tandem.
Boss Lady just asked Anklebiter to go get office manager (she of the bubble wrap fetish) and tell her to come see her.
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