On the job

Getting up is actually easier when you gave somewhere you need to be! But it does not make it pleasant...


Princes street is surprisingly quiet in the morning; I was kind of expecting the London 'ohmyGodI'mlateI'mlategetoutfmywaynowISAIDNOW!!Stopthatbus!!' early morning madness. Instead... well, it completely failed to be hectic or even busy, as if the whole city (not just me) have not had their first cup of coffee, and was just working up the energy to face another day.

I like.

I do not like the greyness of my office building though. Even the Petland hills manage to look bleak and uninspiring through the grey concrete window frames. Looking at the coffee-stained wall I munched my jacket potatoe and glumily meditated on the plight of humanity. How many working days are made utterly miserable by the ugliness, shabbiness and general yuck of offices..? At least the potatoe was nice.

In fact, I was astonished at how quickly I got used to being at an office again. You walk into the generic open-plan floor, and it seems like you're on a different planet - bizzare equipment, dusty remains of charity events and office parties and abandoned stationery sediment into strange and alien archeologies. But it takes only a few hours for the stack of empty cardboard boxes piled against a wall to become a familiar and comforting feature. I guess human brains just work this way.