I think it’s a sign

I love our basement at work – it is an awesome place and I’ll use almost any excuse to visit its maze of secret passages, gloomy corridors, curious cubby holes and also for a chance to peer at the enormous safe housed down there with its supersized door and chainmail security gate more fitting to a chamber of gringrotts. On my latest adventure to this hidden world (a mission to place some of the overflowing files from our ‘paperless office’ into the archive store) I came upon a room I remarkably hadn’t discovered until now, hidden behind a faux wall and mountain of cardboard crates filled with dusty copies of old committee reports.

Now normally curiosity gets the better of me, and if I have the opportunity I will sneak a look at what is behind the mysterious closed doors. On this one this particular occasion however I was stopped in my tracks by the description of the room’s contents marked upon a sign…

It looks like someone is either having toilet problems or we are taking the prospect of cultivating GM foods too far.

Either way – I think there are some things best left undiscovered.

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Life is out there

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I have been experiencing a strange sensation of late in which I have lost all concept of time. I only realised it was the beginning of April this week after a colleague cunningly hid a whoopee cushion on my chair….

You see currently my life is organised only by university weeks and when assignments are due. I have no idea what month it is, year it is, day it is or even if I continue to exist as a real time human being. I only know that we are on ‘Week 9’ and that my thesis presentation has to be done for 10 days time along with a whole bunch of other stuff filed under the growing pile of ‘things to do at some point’.

This strict and strangely timeless timetable has however had other consequences in that several painful sacrifices have had to be made as to my activities. This is why ALBD has been sadly neglected for so long and why I have worn Neil’s socks to work twice this week. There does however come a point when you need to break free of the monotony of everyday life, revive your soul and experience the world that exists outside of Planning Policy Statement 3.

It is therefore, following a much anticipated pay check, I allowed myself 1.5 hours on Tuesday afternoon (‘Week 8’ ) to assult Reading in a bid to find some summer clothes, just in case England decided to have one this year. Now shopping is not usually my most favourite of tasks as I am known to suffer horrendous pedestrian rage, have issues with shop assistants that say hello as you walk in the store but fail to open a till when the queue is out the door and half way past Sainsbury’s, and typically have to search every store to find anything that:

a) Slims my calves

b) Flatters my robust frame, and most importantly

c) Swooshes

I like clothes that swoosh.

By some miraculous marvel however, the gods were shining on me on Tuesday and I hit gold with the Fat Face ‘bargain rail’. Hoorah! I picked up a pair of very comfortable shoes, a useful top that I think will go very nicely with my new blue necklace (you know the one), and a skirt that – you guessed it – swooshes! To top this happy experience and much needed respite away from books and computer screens, the legend that is Fat Face also provided me a useful reminder surreptitiously printed at the bottom of one of its labels:

Life is out there

Something I have to admit to losing sight of recently and you know what, after ‘Week 22’ when all the work is done…

I must just go and live it.

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