I arrive at work sweating a little and with a mild feeling of anger. Nothing out of the ordinary there. I get to my desk, notice that the cleaners haven’t swept the dust off my desk again. I move an old pack of post it notes and see underneath what colour the desk used to be. I put them back again and go to make a coffee. Idle chit chat passes the time as the early morning coffee round queue dwindles. Looks like everyone is “OK thanks” or, “yeah OK, X days until the weekend”. I offer no alternative but wonder to myself what kind of comment I could slip in under the radar and get away with it.
Work progresses nicely as the email inbox fills up with requests for stats, info, insights and costs. People come and go, the occasional call is answered and lunch arrives. What to get today? A boring choice of local sandwich shops that are either too expensive, don’t give enough fillings or put you in danger of spending a week on the toilet. The pub shines out like a beautiful beacon of hope and joy but at £3.70 a pint won’t be as much fun as you’d hope. Plus they’ve probably decided to sell Thai food now. Settle for sandwich, get disappointed, even adding salt and vinegar crisps doesn’t jazz it up. Check my personal email. Nothing there. Not even spam.
Continue with work. All passes successfully and head home, this time by bus to avoid a face-in-armpit situation. 5 mins down the road it starts to rain. Umbrella is at my desk and I decide I’m too close to the bus stop to turn around. Crowd into the bus shelter and huddle with fellow commuters either smoking, shouting on the phone or listening to music on loudspeaker. The bus arrives, and quickly departs. It’s ‘too full’, but I’m certain I saw a space in between the tourist, their suitcase and the baby’s pushchair complete with screaming child. Everyone agrees the driver’s an idiot and we shouldn’t have to pay for service like this.
Make it home, realise the evening is running through my fingers so I get changed and decide I’ll do something different tonight. Life’s too short and the clock is ticking. I put on the telly while I think of what to do. Les Dennis is offering to give the contestant the money himself. The answer’s not there. Les’s cheque book is safe this time! I see what’s on next, Bullseye! Oh well, life’s not so bad after all, I’ll do something new tomorrow.
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