For the love of (brackets)

So this is the view of the office when I get out of the lift on my floor:



(I was a little terrified to take this shot, actually)

Oh. My God. Becky.

It's the ultimate open plan wasteland. Acres of slick cubicles and phones bleating and mounds of newspapers piled to the ceiling. Everyone is busy and stressed and dressed in contempo-corporate greys and blues and browns.

Work is improving and Im not so much a rabbit in headlights. Getting to know what Im doing a bit more, but it's thirsty work. I'm desperately trying to sponge everything into my brain so as not to ask a question twice. It's more draining than uni ever was. I'm a little ways off a by-line: today they had me compiling and cropping pics of Emma off Big Brother (of dead father fame) into a flash gallery.



She was a noted Adelaide model (or 'mannequin', as they're labelled in the paper trade) before entering the house, and there were loads of shots to choose from. Emma buffing a red porche in a bikini? Emma quaffing a caipairina at the opening of a South Terrace niteclub? Emma having her breasts fashioned into a native bush scene by renowned South Australian body artist? Big Brother is following me!!

It was absolutely pedal to the metal for the whole day, except for 10 minutes when I reeled across the street into a skinny fluorescent arcade curry counter for some lunch.



Scrummy.

Ive been looking at a few rooms, too. Saw one last night, one tonight. Both Adelaide Advertiser connections, close to the city, empty rooms and beige carpet and built in chipboard robes. Nice young girl flatmates. Nice enough all around. But I can't decide!!! For starters, I'm a little worried that my PVC fetish will get leaked to the greater population via group email if I move in with someone from work... You know?

I'm just loving serviced apartment bachelor life. One could get used to clean sheets every night. I really have to go shopping for particulars, milk, bread and such. The only thing in the fridge is a 2 litre bottle of cold cold sweet clear apple juice. I am loving that stuff right now. Best served chilled, straight out of the bottle neck, in the warm glow of the fridge light.




Ahhhhh...