You Are The Bear In Your Own Cave

I was looking forward to the weekend like an Yukon bear-trapper's annual trip to the brothel. Following a turbulent few days half-settling into the new premises, the floor my desk now occupies still requires a bit of work and I have not settled into the new guise of an open-plan working environment.

My journey into work has also changed with a jaunt along the banks of the river Lagan now featured in the final stretch which has provided scenery for the eyes which walking through the concrete jungle of May Street cannot provide - although one may argue of the beauty that is the river Lagan especially during the grey mornings of February.

There's a snugness about walking along in dull blustery day with your hood wrapped around your head. It's like being in a small cave and looking out with a feeling of secureness. It's almost like retreating to the warm confines of the bed that you left not more than an hour before and the journey becomes an automation of the body with a slight detachment from the mind because it has still to fully awake.

I'm off to give my system a jolt with a lethal dose of caffine. Catch you tomorrow for more musings and ramblings.