TGIF

I heard but did not see Chris Isaak. They were setting the stage up as I got to Martin Place and a small crowd was gathering. I clicked a very poor pic, got a coffee and headed in to work - casually dressed as it was Friday, although several of my new colleagues are in permanent casuals - and about 30minutes later I could hear the muffled soudns of one or other of his songs that I can remember. Bad Bad Thing or I Don't Wanna Fall in Love or whatever. The rest of the work day passed off uneventfully with the highlight being my introduction to the secret tuck stash.

On floor 12, apprently, there are vending machines full of fat, sugar and additives and a very small percentage of the proceeds they take goes to charity. Probably the way they got the things in the door, the semi-myth that by purchasing from one of the machines you are helping kids with cancer or starving families in Africa or saving donkeys from being thrown off of roofs or similar. The painfully transparent truth is that you are also contributing to the bank balances of the owners of the machines and this has been noted and there is as an alternative the secret stash. Hidden in a sliding cupboard is a load of crisps, chocs, candies and drinks that someone gets at a good price and sells on with all profit going to charity. I like that.

Something I forgot from yesterday is that I managed to get lost, set of a door alarm and had a butt clenching moment when I thought I was kinda trapped in an alley. I had headed to the carpark to see where the bike racks are and on my way out followed a sign pointing me towards some stairs. Iwent up the stairs to a door marked "G" that I assumed meant ground floor. I opened it, alarm went off and I stepped through to an alley beside the building. The door closed. Said alley was a walkway with high fences enclosing it, and as I doscovered after an uncomfortable delay, an openable gate at one end. I headed for lunch and returned to find that, to my relief, there had been no evacuation of the building an hour earlier.

The other big news from yesterday was that we now look very, very likely to buy the house we handed over a 10% deposit for and exchanged contracts on. Forty two days - well, 41 now - we should be moving in. The solicotor we handed the cheque to was based in our old haunt, Neutral Bay. The suburb has not changed much; Maisy's is still there and still open 24 hours, and Kenta, our favourite bargain Japanese is still there. The Oaks hotel (read pub for hotel) is still there and the ATM is in kinda the same place although where it used to be they have crammed a few pokies, or one arm bandits, fruit machines, call them what you will. Sadly, the front bar has been renovated and now looks far nicer than it used to. A pity, I liked the front bars grottiness, but it now looks almost as nice as the rest of the pub. Opposite the pub the pie shop is still there, though now trading as Jesters ("serious about pies") and no longer Shakespeare's Pies ("the best pies on the planet" which they were not.) You have to admire a country where the national dish is either anything thrown on a BBQ or the meat pie. All is well in Neutral Bay.

The day ended with a Nepalese meal at Mandala in Randwick and a celbratory bottle of bubbly. I had the goat, and very nice it was too. Then we headed on for coffee and cheesecake and I ate so much I felt sick but refused to leave any. With my new exercise and training regime I have tried to pick out a plan of how not to bore myself to death with a "proper" diet and I choose the 24hrs eat what you like method and that starts on Friday night. Bad idea; I felt like crap, albeit well fed crap. Back to that drawing board.