Today I Became A Solar Powered Office Worker

Well, today I woke up, felt good, believed I was going to have a good day.

Unfortunately, the universe took that personally.

It all began when I got to my desk in the office. We hotdesk, but I’ve been lucky enough to snag the same spot for the past year. It’s a cosy, quiet little corner up the back of Floor 1. Unfortunately for me, I’m surrounded by people from a different department, who all know each other, and can outvote me 3 to 1.

And that’s exactly what happened today.

I walked in, sat down, and my eyes were immediately hit with the force of a trillion nuclear bombs. Of course the Sun was blasting in right at where I sit. I couldn’t see either my monitor or my laptop screen. I politely asked, in that quintessential people‑pleasing way, “you mind if I close the blind a bit? I can’t see my screen :)” and you’d be forgiven for thinking I’d just asked to dig up their great aunty Barbara.

I was torpedoed with an assault of, “Oh, but we like it nice and bright,” and “it’s good for morale.” Like, sure, Deborah – me getting a migraine and 380 million septillion watts of pure fusion energy into my retinas is great for morale. Stunning, babe.

Alas, I was outvoted.

So I had to sit, for thirty solid minutes, holding up a planner to cover my eyes like a riot shield. It was useless against the celestial death beam pointed directly at my face.

And to top it all off? One of their colleagues walked past and was met with, “Morning, Mable. Beautifully bright weather, isn’t it?”

Beautiful? Sorry diva, but I can’t see the beauty when my eyes have just weathered a 10‑million‑degree inferno.

And oh, it gets better.

Lunch comes around. I’m famished, and I’ve got a lovely Yo! Sushi chicken katsu bento box waiting for me. Delightful. Well, no one told me they don’t come with wooden utensils. So there I was, exasperated and believing this delectable lunch was the only thing stopping me from having a Menty‑B, only to discover Shakespearean levels of culinary betrayal.

The horror. The fury. The agony of a stomach trying to devour itself in protest at the injustice of it all.

Ach well. Tomorrow’s another day, right? And at least I got to see some seagulls being cute in the river.

Stay hydrated, divas x