Hi, I'm Shelly Maeda. I'm a loan processor at a big bank in uptown Charlotte, and I've lived in a cubicle for eight years, three jobs and two floors. My current cube is six feet by eight with walls about five feet high. I measured with a legal pad one slow Friday.

When I started, nobody told me anything useful. They told me where the fire exits were and how to fill out a time sheet. Nobody told me about the popcorn, or the speakerphone guy, or what "let's take this offline" means. So I wrote it all down. This guide is dedicated to every new hire who has ever sat down in an empty cube, looked at the gray fabric walls, and thought, "Now what?"

Contents: Your Habitat · Field Guide to Neighbors · Meetings · Decorating · Food · Emergencies · Corporate-to-English Dictionary

• The walls are made of fabric. This means everything you own can be pinned to them, and every word you say can be heard through them. Plan accordingly.
• You cannot close a door you do not have. The only way to look busy is to be busy, or to hold a piece of paper and frown at it.
• Face your monitor away from the aisle if you can. If you can't, a little mirror stuck to the corner of the monitor will show you who's coming up behind you. Mine came from a drugstore and cost $1.49. Best money I ever spent.
• Your chair is your only real estate. If it wobbles, fill out the facilities request today. It will take six weeks.

Every cube farm has the same species. I've been careful to leave out names. You'll recognize them.

Your 2 p.m. meeting survival kit: a legal pad, a pen that works, a second pen for when the first one doesn't, a bottle of water, and the expression of a person taking careful notes. What you draw on the legal pad is between you and the legal pad. My record is a complete floor plan of my dream house, with landscaping.

Rules I have learned the hard way:

1. The meeting will start ten minutes late and end ten minutes late. It will not start late and end on time.
2. Never be the one who asks "Any other questions?" at 4:55.
3. If a meeting is called to discuss why there are so many meetings, go. It's the only one where you know what will happen.
4. Bring a doughnut and you're a team player for a week.

• Plants: Under fluorescent lights with no window, you want a pothos or a snake plant. They put up with almost anything, including being forgotten over a long weekend. My pothos is named Ernest. He's four feet long now and heading for Cathy's cube.
• Pictures: Two or three of your family or your dog. More than ten and people start to worry about you.
• Comics: One Dilbert strip is funny. A whole wall of Dilbert tells your boss exactly what you think of him, and he reads Dilbert too.
• Nothing that plays music, talks, sings, or dances when someone walks by. You'll love it for a day. Your neighbors will hate it for a year.

• The snack drawer is your bottom left drawer. Stock it with crackers, peanut butter, a can of soup and a spoon. Somewhere around 3:30 p.m. you will thank me.
• The break room fridge gets cleaned out Friday at 4. Anything without a name goes. Anything with a name might go too, if it's been in there since the Fourth of July.
• The microwave line is longest from 11:55 to 12:20. Go at 11:40 and look like you have somewhere to be.
• Birthday cake: There's cake in the break room about twice a month. You do not have to know whose birthday it is. Sign the card anyway.

Printer jam: Open every door on the printer. Pull out the paper gently. Close every door. If a red light is still on, walk away quietly and use the printer on the other side of the floor. Someone from the fourth floor will come fix it. Someone from the fourth floor always does.

Fire drill: Take your purse and your coat. One February we stood out in the parking deck for forty minutes in sleet, and I have never been so cold in North Carolina in my life.

The network goes down: Stand up. Stretch. Talk to the person in the next cube. Remember that people used to do this all day, before e-mail. It isn't so bad. Then sit back down and hit Refresh every thirty seconds like everyone else.

Your supervisor comes by at 4:58 with "one quick thing": There is no procedure for this. Jerry, if you're reading this, I love you, but please stop.