A DAY IN THE LIFE

AT THE OFFICE

Six o'clock the alarm rings, I have plans to be at work at seven. At six thirty I crawl from underneath duvet no1(req), duvet no2(req) and wool blanket(optional), pull off my granny Ella's hanknit woollen socks(req) and wrap the wool cardie(optional) tighter. Have a dysfunctional shower in my dysfunctional bath, no make up today (a "nice to have", but neatly placed in the "optional extra" category these days), jump into the nearest clean clothes and I'm off to work.
Stupid busdriver doesn't stop at the bus stop even though a dozen people are standing there waiting to get off. Just because no-one actually pressed the stop button, he just drives on. As if he doesn't know we all want to get off, it's by the bloody tube stop... stupid fffff...aaargh, too tired to get worked up about it. Right... to Nero's for my fix, savour the last five minutes before I unlock the gate, then the door, to the office. Get a few minutes to myself, then the boss walks in the door. I can almost hear it before I see him, I can definately see it on his face the moment he walks into the room... he's in one of his panicky moods... lucky me!
Things get so hectic that Tootsie has to resort to bidding good morning via e-mail, sometimes our only possible way of communication. Very useful for sharing our shock over Crazy Redface's and Dulldude's ways.
Sometime during the morning i discover my half full latte on my desk - ice cold. Fuck it, I need my coffee. Into the microwave it goes. Thank you very much.
At lunchtime I need to go home, this real estate guy is coming to look at the flat. Yep, the landlord is selling. Which means me and lady rubberduck have to move. Oh-nooo, I'm sooo gonna miss the woodlice in the bathroom, the non-existing central heating, the uncleanable kitchen... I could go on.
Back at work, the afternoon is as hectic as the morning. I take off early to go to my usual Tuesday lecture. Somewhere in between all this, there was a bit of outline/scheme design, a little feasibility study, lots of phonecalls (pathetic attempts to press the planners and miserable excuses to the client) and plenty of assurance to the boss: I have got matters under control. Anything to bring a smile to his little face.