WE move out of our office on Friday. Ok, so it’s only to the fourth floor – we’re currently on the first.Its been dark in there these days so we’re all looking forward to the promise of loftier sights above.
But it’s all a bit surreal at our place at the moment - somehow sparse and dishevelled at the same time.
Bits of desk have already been stolen from us and carted off to Basildon for reasons unexplained.
And thankfully, most of our recycling has been dumped, after we all got on our hands and knees a couple of weeks ago and filled sacks with yellowing council documents and the like.
The de-junk part is starting to feel a bit cathartic.
But our desks are in disarray.
I can’t see our editor, Gary anymore from where he sits a row behind me, for all the papers and stacks of crates srouding me into my corner.
And my desk, has managed to take on an even heavier cloak of chaos than is cope-able with.
But Gary’s hanging onto his nerves and chugging out his four titles for deadline with admirable fervour, and we’re following suit.
We’ve been banished from the office on Friday morning so that he can direct the removal men with us “crazy cats” as he calls us out of the way.

