You may be wondering how my new job’s going. It’s going pretty good. I’m part of a small team of seven that have been thrown together, and we spent most of last week figuring out exactly what we’ll be doing. Which is just as well, because being a very large organisation, they’re taking a bit of time to get such luxuries as phones and PCs sorted out.
But the essentials have been sorted out, such as the location of the nearest Coke machine, the quirks of the bistro, and the location of the three nearest parks. It’s a hangover from working in St Kilda Road, next to Fawkner Park. We had to check out and rate the parks. Park#1 is very nice, but a little too far to walk. Park#2 is closer but, quite plainly, sucks due to factors such as the dust from the nearby quarry and the noise from the freeway. Park#3 is probably the best.
I’m getting a handle on the commute. The urban tribes found on the 624 bus are quite different from those on the train. The schoolkids outnumber the commuters, so they tend to be a good deal more rowdy – in fact they use the kind of language that would probably send your grandmother into shock.
The bus timetable in the morning looks like this:
|I’m still half asleep
|It’s a reasonable time
|I’m running late
|Gets me to work
|About 8am. Boss thinks I’m conscientious
|About 8:30, but the trip takes a tad longer
|About 9am; after everyone else
|An acceptable number of schoolkids and Uni students; a commuter or two
|Cram packed with schoolkids and Uni students (but I get on early enough to get a seat)
|Uni students, a few late schoolkids and a commuter or two
|Keeps the bus company walkie talkie turned up
|Keeps telling people to move to the back
|Listens to a decent radio station
|Probably best if I’m energetic enough. Can go home early.
|Avoid unless enjoy impersonating a sardine.
|Just a tad too late.