The office has become a battlefield. Whether you work from home or from a jungle of air conditioners and water coolers, today’s post will explore the dangers of the 9-5 war zone. It will also attempt to provide an early warning system for catastrophic workplace meltdown.
Welcome to the war zone
Backed up by origami F16 Falcons, a battalion of paper clip paratroopers, and a bumper box of Maltesers, rival workers are conducting desktop warfare using graffitied staple guns and rubber band bombs, their skin etched with Tipp-Ex tattoos. If John Woo made stationery commercials, this would be his film set.
Now, for the first time, there’s a way to safely determine how far towards anarchy the workplace has slipped. Let’s hope it’s not too late for yours…
The OFFCON scale
The OFFCON, or office terror condition scale, is a colour-coded chart showing the workplace threat level, similar in nature to the system that the US government employs to provide disco lighting at the Pentagon in the event of sudden breakdancing.
How it works
Download the OFFCON PDF, print it out, and place it in a high traffic area in your workplace or home. Once a week, mark the current threat level in the appropriate box with a pin or magnet. (5 is low risk. 1 is extreme danger.)
The scale will not only warn co-workers of the general state of alert, but also serve as an indication of whether or not your boss is likely to sign-off on that pay rise, sanction your 2-month vacation, or let you call her “sugarlips” without losing your job.
The alert signs
How do you tell which alert level your office has reached? It’s easy — just follow the signs for office or home workers below. A warning before we begin: if you’re not already a decorated workplace veteran, the following paragraphs paint images of a bleak future.
OFFCON 5: office ‘normality’
Office workers:
Work is getting done, and some of it’s interesting. You like one of your clients, and you don’t really mind going into work every day. If it wasn’t for the fact that the pay was so bad, you might even feel motivated. Surely this can’t last. Or can it?
Home workers:
Things are normal. You’re getting up after 11pm and working in your pyjamas. You eat whenever you like and have topless webcam meetings with your clients. Life feels good. You’re reminded every day why you left your real job. Most days, you can smile at least once without faking it.
Don’t make any false moves. Boat-rocking will end in tears.
OFFCON 4: covert slacking-off
Office workers:
This is the most common state of alert for office workers. Due to the fear of being discovered browsing eBay for cut-price sock monkeys outside of your Prescribed Lunch Break, your mouse pointer forever hovers over your browser’s “close” button. You’re as primed as Optimus waiting for the Decepticons to attack. When your boss walks through the door, you’ll spring into busy mode.
It was a close one, but you got away with it. You return to eBay to bid on an early warning alarm system that you can rig in the corridor to alert fellow slackers of future interruptions. Next time, you’ll be ready.
Home workers:
You’re weaving a web of deceit. You kissed your better half goodbye as they left for their ‘proper job’ this morning. It’s now 6pm, and you’re preparing a story about all the productive things you did today.
Should they discover that you spent 7 hours playing on the Wii, you’ll suddenly look exhausted and palm it off as ‘fitness training’ without feeling the tiniest pang of guilt. You hope they don’t see that Mario Kart is still in the drive. You make a mental note not to be so careless in future.
If you’ve not got enough work to stay busy now, you’ll struggle later.
OFFCON 3: stress balls of fire
Office workers:
OFFCON 4 took its toll. Now the work’s piling up. Suddenly, everything’s an emergency. Stress levels are rising. Arguments are common. One or more stress balls, NERF guns, or mini flame throwers have appeared in the office. It’s no longer safe to ask your boss for time off, more money, or a dinner date. If you don’t flag up the problem now or get some outside help in, you’re in for a rough ride.
Home workers:
You’re busy. Your laundry is piling up. But work no longer interests you. You’ve discovered that your true calling lies in watching films and submitting continuity errors to the Internet Movie Database. Weeks pass, and even faulty plotlines fail to capture your imagination. Frustrated, you barricade yourself in your room and think of a new occupation. Assassination perhaps?
Disenchanted with the idea of killing for a living, you turn your thoughts towards happier dreams. You start planning a move to Amsterdam, where you’ll open a coffee shop that specialises in hallucinogenic cocoa. You practise grinding coffee beans and melting chocolate with your thighs. You scrawl “not crazy” on your forehead to prevent anyone asking.
Remind yourself what you loved about your work. Forget Amsterdam, and find happiness in something you love. Maybe taking up a new hobby would help fill the gap, too.
OFFCON 2: all-out warfare
Office workers:
It’s all-out warfare. Your 9-5 has descended into a series of petty thefts, mindless squabbles, and general heel-nipping. Small skirmishes break out for no apparent reason. Gangs form and leaders are chosen. Territory is divided with invisible tags. The watercooler becomes no man’s land. Nobody dares enter the stationery cupboard alone, and all sharp objects are removed by office security.
Your building is declared to be on “lock down”, and chocolate biscuits become the new internal currency. In an effort to reduce the threat level, Health and Safety are called in. You promptly staple them to the wall by their safety ties, expelling a lifetime of pent-up anger for having to fill in “Form 37B: Permission to Move My Pencil Pot”.
If you can’t walk away today, at least start job hunting.
Home workers:
It’s become impossible to work from home. Driven by a belief that working undisturbed is your divine right, you confront your cats to establish some ground rules. As you round the corner into their lair, you feel a soft thud as a Buzz Lightyear action figure spins through the air and hits you on the temple. Darkness falls.
When you awaken, you find yourself in the kitchen bound to a chair. A kitten sits at a distance, eyeing you menacingly and armed to the teeth with nut crackers. You look down to see the job listings pages open on the table in front of you. “Cleaners wanted” is circled in red pen. Someone is trying to send you a message.
It sounds like you need some space. Try working from the library or coffeeshop for one day a week. Make sure you earn a living too.
OFFCON 1: evacuation!
Office workers:
Chaos rules the workplace. All attempts to reduce the threat level have failed. Chocolate biscuits have run out, and no further supplies are forthcoming. Fights to the death have broken out with the office smokers because they get 10 extra breaks a day. There is much talk of office privileges (such as smiling) being withdrawn for good.
Your boss escapes to the golf course, where she now spends all her working hours. All matters of importance have been delegated to you. When faced with a room full of angry board members and asked to explain why the company’s stock price has plummeted, you frantically tell them that you need more biscuits, and that you’re running low on origami air support. They don’t look impressed.
Perhaps it’s time to take that job abroad or start your own gig.
Home workers:
You’ve tried working from home. It’s been tough, and you’re wondering if you made the right choice. The distractions are numerous; the quality working hours few. You won’t let your dream of independence die, and you’d hate to get a job, but you’re struggling to find another option.
Perhaps you could rent a small office or lease a hot desk in some shared office space. Alternatively, convert your garage, lock yourself in, and swallow the key. Just create your own working sanctuary, and you’ll be fine.
