Thursday, January 04, 2007

Is it a bad sign that the first task of my New Year was burying a decomposed possum?

My company moved offices over Christmas. We moved into an already-existent building, but one to which we commissioned major internal work. For the past month or two we've been hearing increasingly hysterical updates on how it's going to look: 'You'll all love it! It's open plan, and very modern, everything's glass, you'll love it" seguing almost seamlessly into "You'll all love it! It's not quite…we've had to cancel the scheduled walk-through, but they assure me it'll be ready by January, and it's very open plan…and…glass…look, let me show you an artist's impression. See? Shiny".

Now it's January (and, oh yeah, sorry about the long absence. The laptop is still at the shop, the desktop got partially fried in an electrical storm and I wrote my car off in an altercation with a be-bull-barred four wheel drive. The last thing isn't strictly relevant to the fact that I haven't blogged, but I throw it in here in case there's some sympathy to be had) and we're installed in the new premises. I'm sure it'll come as as much of a shock to you as it did to me that the offices aren't entirely finished.

So here I am, in an office which boasts dusty drinking water, no toilet paper in the bathrooms (that's not entirely true; they've now hung rolls of paper from the hooks on the inside of the cubicle doors. No dispensers, as yet) and workmen standing on our desks and patching the defective glass doors ("it's so modern, and…glass…"). Fun times.

The oddest thing about the situation, to me, is that the workmen are trained to give way to us. That's the wording that was used, trained. I imagine they used some sort of ringing bell/food reward technique. In effect, it means that if I walk down the corridor to grab a coffee (not that I can do that, because the coffee machine isn't yet working, but let's not dwell) the workmen all stop what they're doing for a minute and move aside. I mean, they're not bowing their heads in obeisance, or anything, but it's still sort of creepy.

Personally, I'd have preferred it if they were trained not to leer at all us young women, but that's just the sort of radical humourless feminist type I am.

Anyway, my dears, you'll be glad - or completely disinterested, but hey, it's my blog - to know that one of my resolutions is to blog more often again. I suspect the nature of it might change a little, but we'll see.

My other resolutions? I don't normally do this (make resolutions, much less share them), but on the grounds that it might actually help stick to them, are about as clichéd as one can get: eat less, drink less, exercise more.

In the service of which, I need advice. Does anyone know of a good non-alcoholic substitute for white wine? Especially in summer, I find that the cool lemony acid bite of a glass of wine is what I crave with dinner, and nothing else is the same. It's not about the alcohol, but non-alcoholic wine is terrible. Any suggestions gratefully welcomed.

Happy New Year. I missed you.


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