I had the nicest start to my day today. But first, the background.
I work in a rather large building (for a rather large company). I sit, of course, in a cubicle (which, luckily, is also rather large). I don’t have much of a view of the outside without walking around the maze a bit, so I usually bring in flowers to brighten up my area. Unfortunately, they don’t have much of a view either so they tend to die off in spurts. I’m not the worlds most organized person, really, so as I catch a dead flower or two, I might remember to remove it from the vase.
Thursday, I knew I was going to be away from the office for several days so I took the vase to the sink to fill it with water, thinking that it was also a good time to pick out the lilies that I’d noticed were fading the other day. When I got to the sink, I realized they were already gone. All the flowers that had needed to be removed were gone. Furthermore, there was already a lot more water in the vase than should have been based on when I’d last remembered to add some. There could be only one answer: the phenomenal person who cleans my cube had taken it on herself to clean up my flowers for me. I was highly pleased, but not entirely surprised, because…
A few weeks ago, in my scatterbrainedness, I’d left my cellphone at work. When I got home, I knew exactly where I’d put it - the same place I put it every morning. So the next day I come to work, and it isn’t there. At first, I have this feeling of dread - someone’s stolen my cellphone. But an idea occurs to me, and I open my pencil drawer. Sure enough, there’s my phone, neatly tucked under a pad of Post-It notes, obscured from obvious view. I was relieved, and again, really pleased that the cleaning person had thought to do that for me.
Last week (before the flower incident) I left my medicine for my ear infection at work. It was sitting in front of my monitor where I’d remember to take it. Next day, I come in, and it’s not there. This time, it’s neatly tucked behind a bottle of dry-erase board cleaner - in easy view for me when I sat down, but not visible to a person walking past my cube. The cleaning person strikes again. So these two incidents, combined with the flower incident, I had to say thank you.
So I scribbled out a quick note. “To the person who cleans my cube, I just have to thank you for the great job that you do. You’re amazing!” and stuck it on my desk right over the garbage can - she couldn’t miss it.
I come in this morning to find: “My name is Margie. Thanks very much for your beautiful words. (Cleaning woman) Margie”
What a nice way to start my day!