The Great Taste That Really Lasts!

I got up at 7 this morning and flung myself into the shower like it was my first day of school. Wash, shave, aesop perfume, blast of nivea under the pits, grease of murrays in the hair, new shirt, pants, jacket, scarf...

70's sunnies or no 70 sunnies? Hmmmm.... NO 70's sunnies today...

I was ready to blitz it.



((( Cut to: Devil Wears Prada-esque montage of my outfits/grooming/general eagerness declinging over time... )))

I was halfway to work, weaving through the flotsom and jetsom of the early morning grind, when I realised that in my said eagerness I'd forgotten to brush my teeth. Furry teeth! I ran my tounge over my incisors to guage the necessity of a dash to Coles and a public toilet. 'Fine!' I thought. Just fine. Not brilliant but fine.



I settled on a packet of Extra and a deck of Styvo's from a nearby newsagency and continued up the road to work. In my ears, blaring, Nina Simone, a fine buxom lass to get you in the mood if ever there was one. I bounced along to this lovely little little tune, life affirming and inspiring at least!





Thats right. I got my ticket, I got my token, I got the life.

Then the office loomed into view above inner-city Waymouth Street. Cue: Psycho Stings.

'Re re re re rei rie rie rie!!!'



I entered the building and met a fellow new recruit, Mark. Mark was about 50 and was recently employed as the head of the classified section. He was also in his best serious outfit. We were promptly put the the OH&S ringer for about three hours with the HR manager, a fellow with wispy locks who - intuition tells me - took an instant dislike to my corderouy jacket and general youthfulness.

Then we had a tour of the building, a glistening, multimedia'd monolith straight outta Shanghai. They issued me with a security pass whose photo makes me look like a 47 year old library monitor.



Then a three hour training module on how to send email and use a start bar. And navigate the company's news integration jewel, a particularly UN-userfriendly program called Cyber, which shares the wire for every story written around Australia and the World.

I felt early onset alzeimas creeping up my brain stem as I was introduced to the Online team, my new workmates... who seemed at a loss as to where to start teaching me exactly how they string this thing together. So let me go home at 5pm. 'Be ready for serious training tomorrow,' said my new boss, Rod. I smiled brightly then remembered the teeth thing and closed my mouth quicly. 'I'm ready!!' I said, before sailing out of the office.

The sun was going down hard as I walked back to my hotel, or, you know, wherever. Rundle Mall passed by in a blur of bra shops and discount CD stores and emo kids making specticles of themselves. Adelaide seems to have alot of emo kids.



I slipped past this kinda alternaive pub called the Exeter and decided to stop in for a schooner before retiring to my suite at the Pacific International. I scraped back a stool and flicked through my book and rested my head on the table.

As the Mountain Goats so lyrically said:

I am gonna make it...through this year... If it kills me.