...And the blogs keep a comin'!

A strange day, the day between a public holiday and the weekend.

It began like any other day. The raucous screaming of the alarm, the sudden spring out of bed into a soothing warm shower as the knowledge of the actual time penetrates the cloudy, sleepy brain.(bugger the water restrictions - not my fault the government is reluctant to charge appropriate prices for this precious resource - I am happy to pay extra for a stupidly long shower and would probably CURB my overuse as the cost increased).

Steaming rice from the microwave, nice cup of coffee with appropriately frothed milk and then out the door.

Conveniently, K had the day off, so a lift to work in the ute was in order. Once on the road, the day looked nice. It was strangely quiet, an odd feeling in the air, but otherwise normal. The drive in was over in short order, with a minimum of aggro (apart from one silly tart in a BMW who tried to outrun then cutoff the ute - NO ONE outruns the UTE OF DEATH!!!). The ute pulled up quietly to the KERB and he stepped out to meet the day.

It was at this point the day started to take on a different complexion. The tumbleweed bouncing gracefully down the city street would have unnerved a lesser man, but not our hero. "Coffee," he thinks, "Me needs, now. Um, no change, in pocket. Later, maybe". (This sort of strangely poetic sentence structure was the norm until said first cafe strength coffee was obtained).

The automatic doors seemed to almost sense his approach to the building, and were already open by the time he got to them. He stopped, looking suspiciously at the mechanism, as the security guard began to look nervous.

"G'day Herb!" he called to the guard, trying to put him at ease, having no idea what his actual name was and having never before spoken to him. The lift, too, was unnaturally quick. Not normal. So he took the stairs.

Sometime later, and a little out of breath, he arrived on his floor. At first, all seemed well. A phone was ringing, or was it? Clearly, the term 'ringing' implies some sort of bell making noise, and the noise he could hear was made by an electronic signal sent through a small speaker, not a bell at all! He was starting to worry. As he rounded the corner to his desk, he noticed the floor was practically empty. In fact, you could have fired a gun in here and not hit anything.

So he did.

No response.

No one here to give him stuff to do, and an inherited reluctance to work when no one else was left him at a loss. What to do? The internet served as a crutch for a good two hours, but once he had reached the stage of learning how staples were glued together, and the beginnings of Croatian vocab, he lost interest.

He sipped his coffee. Feet resting comfortably on the desk as he gazed out the window.

Maybe the naked chick would make an appearance today? Who knew, but he owed it to his absent colleagues to report on their return.

The clock on the computer ticked..or really 10010111001101ed ?

And he slept.