Hot summer morning / Xmas party in Melbourne Diaries

It’s looking to get to a hot and windy 42 degrees Celsius today (107.6 degrees Fahrenheit for the metrically impaired), and I wisely did my jog around the mountainous streets of Eltham early this morning, the temperature rising from 27 to 34 degrees in the mere 35 minutes I could bother being out there. The two budgies, positioned directly below the only fan in the house, are enjoying the conditions, but it is going to be suffocating today, and in my new house (which is situated in a tree filled park that happens to have buildings growing in it) there is some bushfire risk.

Not helping was the water deprivation and alcohol fluid replacement from a Christmas party last night in bohemian Brunswick (a place I would have thought was heaven when in my 20s) where I was socially introduced to my new TSP [Top Secret Place] colleagues, a young, bright and motivated set of individuals who I nevertheless, due my random and completely worthless knowledge of the wives of Henry VIII, beat in the trivia contest - take that you smartarse little whippersnappers! I’m moving into their workspace next year, so it was good to meet them outside the submission of briefing documents. Ally [made up name] will sadly not be there, as she is leaving next week. This might be for the best given that I have to force myself to look away from her in social situtations (telling myself that someone like that must have a boyfriend with the soul of the poet, the musculature of a UFC champion and the sexual skill of a tantric contortionist). She’s a woman with beautiful, sad eyes (emphasised even more by her sunken face and striking cheekbones), a history in leftist organisations, and a sharply-directed intelligence, the most interesting and frightening person in TSP. Most of the women at the Christmas party were fawning over the same bloke, a strongly built African American guy with a lovely smile and tattoos with the names of his two children on his lower arms - given that the women seemed to be more focused on the upper arms and face, perhaps they missed this small but telling detail. The TSP people seem pretty keen to have me move over; however, my existing work place (EXP) is fighting for me to stay. A timeshare has been worked out whereby I work three days a week in one place, and two days a week in the other. Despite the cracks made about my stern personality (pretty much necessary in my line of work), I am feeling wanted. Part of this is also down to me playing one side against the other. If there is a controversial matter, I’ll tell TSP that EXP are all newbies and they need to be taught a lesson so let’s force them to get x task done, and then go over to EXP and tell them that TSP are over-the-top and preposterously arrogant and so let’s get x task done to the best of our abilities to show them who’s boss. I have become masterly at stating two contradictory positions to two different audiences to reach the same end.

The year nearly ending, I am at a new job, a new house, and feel as empty as ever. No holiday, no girlfriend, an increasingly reclusive life, and declining fitness. A 50/50 score for the year, maybe.