My other other office mate

The move is finally completed.  Now begins the unpacking.  And then we get to repeat it all again in six months.  Joy.

It's bad enough that I'm sharing an office with my receptionist, who talks waaaaay too much.  Add to that the fact that the Chair's office is just off the main office, so he's in my back pocket all the time.  No, that's not the worst part.

The worst part is my neighbor, Dr. Bigmouth, the Chair of another department.  My corner of the office has a door that adjoins to the office next door.  (For some reason known only to the department that normally occupies this office.)  Having a door between my desk and my neighbor's desk is not like having a wall between us.

Let's just say: sound carries.  Really well.  When Dr. Bigmouth types on his keyboard, I can hear it.  When he coughs or blows his nose, I can hear it.  And when he talks on his phone?  It's like he's in my office, using my phone.  He's not called Dr. Bigmouth for nothing. 

In short, for the next six months, I am going to have no privacy.  No private phone calls.  No private conversations.  I'm not even going to be able to fart in private, because if I can hear everything Dr. Bigmouth says and does, I imagine he can hear me, too.