Due to unprecedented demand, I’ve refrained from pooing in a plastic bag this morning and waited until I reached the workplace. You will be pleased to know it was a rather big one.
All my lefties friends always ask me how it is to work for the enemy and expect some horror stories, but I always disappoint them because I don’t have any. At least none that I have directly experienced on my skin. I can tell you about the toilets though. They are OK toilets. This one is my favourite one, although it’s no different from the other ones. I’m sorry I’m really tired and struggling to make jokes or write some sense. After a day of work it’s sometimes difficult to switch registers, from the financial to the creative – although one may argue that much of the way financial news is written is really quite creative (as in otherworldly). Stuff like ‘the economy was given a boost’. My dear, Greek ex colleague always used to tell me: who the hell talks like that in real life? I am guilty of writing shit like that sometimes though, I must admit. Because it’s easy. Because it’s a common template which you absorb whether you want it or not. But I know my Greek colleague would excuse me. I miss my Greek colleague. If you’re reading, hello my immigrant friend. I miss you. I miss sitting with you in the area reserved for guests just to see if they would come to tell us off. They never did. What a disappointment. Petty activism. It was just for lolz. You see, love is possible at the Daily Mail, even if you didn’t think it was.