I'm a friend first and a boss second, and probably an entertainer third

A thousand apologies dear gentle-hearted readers, all three of you. It's been two weeks since my last post, and I've been plagued by both blogger's block and blogger's nag. Each night as I begin the long bus journey home I promise myself that I will write ... and then I get home, and that damn couch looks like such a good deal. Plus my fella has undoubtedly cooked up a good meal, and then we settle in for some trash tele, and then my eyelids start to drop and drag.

A lot of the past two weeks has been taken up with playing let's get acquainted, in which I attempt to acclimatise to the environment in which I work and feel out the personalities therein. Any workplace is a little community in its own right, office politics are just the tip of the iceberg. I know you know that, but there's nothing like coming into a new work space to make it patently apparent. It's funny just how much energy you can expend learning to read the moods and ways of new people. The impact of such an effort never makes itself apparent to me until I slide onto that bus seat at 5.10 pm, and then all of a sudden I switch off. I make this sound like my workmates are emotionally discombobulating, and that's not the case at all. It's all the subtleties of getting to know which folks are chatty; who is supportive of newcomers; who appreciates a systematic approach; who likes to keep to themselves. It's about feeling out the boundaries and conducting myself accordingly, at the same time as being clear about my own boundaries and needs. One thing I will say: librarians are a little more reserved in their conversations than I am used to. I'll give you a second here to recover from your "well, duh" facial expression. I did know this was coming, yet still I sort of miss the frank, profane trash-talking that went on in my last workplace, where we were able to talk reasonably openly about the issues that were affecting our lives as well as the state of the world in general. There, everyone had similar political perspectives; in my new workplace, with so many folks, there's a political spectrum. And yes, diversity is good; but it does mean treading with care in tea room discussions about, say, WorkChoices legislation. Whereas previously any of us in my old workplace could have a good, cathartic Liberal-quibbling spray and everyone else would be all "hear, hear", now I'm a bit more, well, uh, diplomatic/restrained. It's probably good for me.

On a completely different topic, one not related to libraries but definitely related to untamed-ness: my sister's three month old kitten, Frankie, is one of the lights o' my life at the moment, scrappy little bugger that he is. He's discovered the joy o' claws and is completely besotted with their usefulness in hauling his little fluffy ass up and over virtually any obstacle you want to toss his way. I let myself into my sister's joint tonight before she got home from work so that I could indulge in a bath, something sadly lacking in our abode. Poor Frankie has to be where the action is, but he is so hypnotised by the running water that he forgets me, himself, his own feet. I was reading my next booky obsession, The thirteenth tale by Diane Setterfield while relaxing in the tub, and so engrossed was I that all I heard was the thump as Frankie propelled himself joyfully onto the edge of the bath before almost losing his balance ... out of the corner of my eye I saw his little kitty paws betray him, causing him to drop off the edge of the bath in a split second and slide with a fluffy-muffled splat onto the tiles. Small things, they can really make your night.

PS: Yes, the title of this post comes from The office.