Thursday, July 12, 2007

My Day

4.03pm. From our office, which is spitting distance from Palace Pier and the beach, I can hear bagpipes. Yes, bagpipes. Elkie, our Australian temp, said she's never heard bagpipes in Brighton. We take turns sticking our heads out the window and look towards the ashtray-grey sea. It is a cold day. On the promenade across from the Sea Life Centre, I can see French young people in parachute-coloured windbreakers thinly huddled together, waiting for their picture to be taken. Beyond the pale turquoise railings, four boys shiver in the sea. In my office, we are licking crumbs of chocolate-covered biscuits and tapping our feet to the whirr of the paper shredder which should ideally be able to also shred the Top 40 chart tunes for the good of civilisation as a whole. The radio sits behind me (behind my left shoulder) and it single-handedly discolours my auditory palate on a daily basis, thanks to FREE GIFTS from Viking. There are 87 minutes left to do my work. I tell Elkie to go ahead and buy 100 reams of photocopy paper so that she can get the free Ipod Nano. Is that bad? The phone rings constantly. I am full of relief that I don't have to take the train anywhere today, even though I enjoy watching the cows and rabbits and clouds and everything else between Brighton and Hastings. The IT engineer has not turned up, so we call to complain. Helpdesk phones us back -- the engineer has gone missing. We wonder if he's decided to finally quit his job. I have had 3 cups of coffee today and tomorrow I plan on having 2. Soon I will have none and then I will be one of those saddos that drinks decaf "for the taste".

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