[m i a o w] the cat

Today has been a process of easing back into work, much less of a trauma than I had prepared myself for. I think when you have trouble sleeping it’s easy to lie there and work yourself up into a little lather of depression – it’s much better to get up and do something (like water the garden, feed the cats, search to no avail for breakfast food). Anyway, I share the room that I work in with two other people, O (a boy) and S (a girl) and we’re all round about the same age and are into a lot of the same things. John, our boss, is in an office nearby (one of those tiny poky rooms that professors get) and he came out to lunch with us today. We went to a regular haunt – Sahara – you can see some pix of it here and then we all professed a necessity for cake. And from thereon forward, we realised we had A Problem…

….. Every bloody shop that sells cake around here – RMIT end of Swanston Street – is CLOSED!! Hideous!! We came back to work with the promise that we would resume our cake search in 2 hours time. This we duly did, and discovered that Melbourne is such a hovel (mostly because no one seems to be back at work except the four of us) that we had to schlep all the way to Lygon Street and down a bit to find a cake shop. And by then [insert outraged snort] we were so bloody hot that we didn’t want cake….so we got some killer gelati instead. My gelati was quite extraordinary for the way it overhung the cone, yet still managed to cling together. I had a combination of custard, coffee and honey flavours. I know. It sounds a bit sicky, but it was truly divine. So that killed another half hour or so! It’s nice to have a boss that likes cake and you can hang out with without feeling weird. As opposed to the CEO of my previous workplace who would suggest little friendly walks around the block together, whereupon you would suddenly remember your sore knee that the pony kicked on the weekend.
‘What pony?’
‘Just a pony.’