So last week I started my new job. I am now on my second Monday and it’s all rather exciting. It’s amazing how quickly you become accustomed to a new desk and new people sitting around you. Then you begin to feel like you’ve been here for a million years. Staring at the same screen and eating satsumas (I like satsumas and it’s too hot for chocolate, it melts everywhere.) I have discovered where the good cakes are to be had and where there is a steady supply of tea. I’m also working with one of my bestest friends from school so we can behave like we’re back in class again, but with freedom to roam from our desks and to go to the pub legally at the end of the day. Oh, it’s dangerous! My new desk has purple partitions that would have clashed horribly with my old green ones in the Death Star (my old hideous monster of an office building that looked like it should have been guarded by hooded men holding light sabres.) The partitions there were so tall there I couldn’t even see over them. It was suggested that I could have been sitting there with my head on my desk sleeping and no one would have known. Now there’s a thought…. No such luck at the new place. I arrived on Monday to an inbox FULL of emails. How is this even possible? I didn’t exist yet in Publishing World. I was still in Conference Land. But apparently I did and I had deadlines, yes: DEADLINES, for the week that I arrived no less. Then my phone began to ring. It went a little bit like this:
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