tales from an ordinary world

2001-08-08

When there's nothing else to do, when the world's worn you out but you can't sit still, you can always go and iron a shirt or two. Therapy, or something.

On the walk home from the tram stop, past the town hall, the office lights are left on in one room, and the venetian blinds aren't closed. Through them I can see somebody's desk in cubicle-land. Neatly arranged on one of the cubicle walls is a collection of band stickers Fugazi, Black Flag - you get the idea. Offsetting this is a soft-toy dog perched on top of the person's monitor. I wonder what this person wears to work.