Aside from washing up cutlery, going to work is my least favorite thing to do. Even in Barcelona (sun, Gaudi, beach, you know) work is a drag. Especially when the office is located on the main route between a funeral home and the municipal crematorium. Every time I go out on the fire escape for a smoke and to try and ignore the interns having a nervous breakdown because no one acknowledged their existence for 30 seconds, I’m presented with another reminder of life’s ultimate brevity and insignificance as a hearse rolls by, fresh from either taking or having dropped off someone’s dearly departed. Read the rest of this entry »
