The Interoffice Envelope

I never really gave them much thought before – the Interoffice Envelope. You know - the one that circulates around the office with the dire warning “Do Not Throw Away Until All Lines Have Been Used.” Sort of makes you wonder doesn’t it – what would happen if you really did throw it away before all the lines were used. Perhaps the same thing that happens to people who remove the “Do Not Remove under penalty of Law” tags from their pillows. Before I became such a rebel, I used to leave those ugly tags hanging there for years, just in case the pillow police was hanging out at the trash can checking for removed tags. Now-a-days I barely get in the door before I am removing them. Of course no matter how close you cut them, there is always that little bit of white stitched in to the seam reminding you that you have at the very least committed a misdemeanor. That just races my blood a little these days. But I digress, we were talking about Interoffice Envelopes weren’t we.

I probably still wouldn’t have thought much about the lowly envelope if it hadn’t been for my cubicle neighbor mentioning this morning about all the names written on the one I delivered to his desk. Now the very idea that we were discussing this is probably directly related to the time spent in cubicles without any direct sunlight – but that topic is for another day. Anyway, his statement made me wonder just what stories the envelope would tell about its journey around the office.

…so I just picked one up and held it for a few moments to see what it would tell me. The one I chose out of the stack was actually quite battered and worn. It had 51 lines - for those counting - and some of those lines had labels over them indicating that that particular line had been used more than once. I was wondering what it was thinking – there were only four lines left blank. Its lip was slightly torn and doubled back, the sides had several tears, and someone had taken the time to put a little tape on the bottom rip. The envelope was definitely nearing the end of its usefulness. I thought of all the documents it had carried and how it had traveled about without questioning why - strictly for the purpose of serving others; and I began to reflect on who might be the one that decided to “throw away” this particular envelope.

Now I am a Virgo. I like new things – pristine. In the past before this epiphany about envelopes, I have been known to pass up an envelope as battered and torn as this one in favor of a new one – especially if I thought the recipient was somebody important in the company. Now in reality, unless this recipient was a Virgo also, they probably didn’t give a flying flip about the envelope - they were just interested in the contents and didn’t even give the envelope a passing thought. It wasn’t about the envelope at all – but what the envelope could do for them.

Have any of us really thought about what would happen, if we came to work one morning and there were no Interoffice Envelopes. Think about all the documents that are circulated in one day throughout a large corporate office – many of them bearing the distinction of being CONFIDENTIAL – and on this particular day they lie naked and exposed to the elements and prying eyes all because there were no Interoffice Envelopes. Now doesn’t that just make you look at the importance of these lowly servants with new eyes?

Hummm. And what does this say about us as people going about life unaware of the value of our fellow human beings and perhaps our own value? Do we pick and choose our friends, employees, mates because of how others might view us? Do we pass by someone of great usefulness just because their edges are a bit frayed and their lines are almost used up? Do we use others for our own benefit without ever appreciating their importance? Do we toss them aside before their lines are all used up in favor of someone younger – more esthetically pleasing? Do we ever take time to explore the journey of our fellow humans – learn from their experiences – appreciate their worth. Or do we all need to wear a sign that begs, “Do Not Throw Me Away Until All My Lines Have Been Used” - just to remind each other how important our fellow human beings really are, and that although many of us may no longer be housed in that pristine new package, we all still have a few lines left.

Sort of makes you think doesn’t it – you know about what is important. In reality we are all just a bunch of Interoffice Envelopes – serving others – gradually running out of lines. Makes me want to be more appreciative of my fellow man – and yes, I agree, I need to get out my cubicle more often!
©2005 Ilene Madrigal