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Soggy Monday morning that hasn’t turned out to be quite as cold as the sleety snow in Whetstone promised, though it is windy and rainy down here in Victoria.

After a poor night’s sleep for both of us: me with insomnia, [livejournal.com profile] ellefurtle with odd dreams and nightmares, probably fuelled by light anxiety on her part and just the usual on mine, we are at work. I left promptly today so that I could wander down to Marsham Street with Furtle, escorting her to her new offices by way of moral support. Unfortunately, though she was twenty-five minutes early and able to go for a coffee in the local Prêt, I had to march the length of Victoria Street to get to my place of work. Not too far, but just enough to preclude a comradely cappuccino. Instead, my overheated carcass (far too many layers this morning for the eventual morning temperature), is sweltering in front of my PC with a manky cup of Nescafé Gold Blend. Do I know how to live, or what?

With the next phase of SpaceFlex coming up, in which we are decanted onto the fourth floor for about four months while the Department reduces the space available to us here yet further I am pleased to have been able to gain minor satisfaction in puncturing the ego of a particularly annoying colleague who has been having increasingly rabid email exchanges with his line manager about why some of us will be having fixed desks after the move and others (he) will not. Bryan’s spy network prevails again.

Having asked for, but having failed to obtain a higher desk last time so that I didn’t end up with stiff legs and a bad back on a daily basis, I have ensured that I have one this time. So up yours, whining and eternally tedious lickspittle.

I suppose I should do some work now.

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