Right, so you’re probably going to hear about work here in the coming months, until we crack down with some lame policy about privacy or personal responsibility or confidentiality or whatever. But anyway.
Just last Sunday I was wondering what to do with my time, and at the stroke of midnight (a bit later actually, but that’s much less dramatic) I read an e-mail about starting work in the morning. Oh, joy.
It’s worked out well, I suppose, and it sure has a less repressive air than home. A dozen and some kids, and I’m not known for brilliant analogies, but if swimming was running a media company then we’ve been thrown in the deep end of the pool and the lifeguard has just had a personal revelation about taking a more hands-off approach to work.
I’ll tell you more when we decide on our bloody name.
And who’s up for a little trip to Ikea? I need bookends and a box and some gewgaws for my desk. And hotdogs and meatballs.