‘You don’t understand! I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I could’ve been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am.’
– On The Waterfront
Last night I dreamt that a man was staring in my window, he had huge eyes and quizzical look on his face. It’s the same as how people look at me in the street, an I’m sorry, but what are you? expression. I woke up feeling creeped out and couldn’t go back to bed until I’d had some crisps.
I’ve mentioned that management have promised us a new mess room at work. And today we finally moved away from our rat-infested grubby hole to the beautifully clean, sparkly white room. It’s filled with furniture that was discarded from local businesses, plus some fancy white cups and saucers that we aren’t allowed to use because they’re for guests.
There’s also a clock that connects to a satellite (apparently) and a hi-tech fridge that has an LCD display telling you the temperature. The chairs are clean, the floors are shiny, the walls are white.
The managers were everywhere asking us how much we liked our new space. We ran away and had break by the old rat-infested grubby hole. Clean and shiny is weird.
Word of the day: Aischrolatry – worship of filth, dirt, or smut