Jared Diamond Books

We all know what it’s like to have weird co-workers. My work is no different and I have a few weird co-workers who I try to spend as little time with as possible. It’s nothing against them, we just have extremely different interests and I don’t really want to talk about what they want to talk about. For example one of my co-workers, let’s call him Jim, is obsessed with winter and the windows in our office. I find it peculiar he cares so much about these things. I’ve never known anyone to be so obsessed with windows before.

Whenever I am unfortunate enough to have to spend time with him, he’ll go on and on about the commercial window tinting. Melbourne offices are definitely of the highest quality and standard, but considering the windows to be the best part of our office space isn’t the first thing that would come to my mind. Oh well, different strokes for different folks, I guess.

I just wish he wouldn’t force me to stare out the window and tell him that the windows are clearly better in winter than they are in summer. I mean, seriously, who cares about that type of stuff? I’m just here to get my work done and socialise with the coworkers that I like, not talk about frosted window tinting. 

I wish it was summer again. My weird coworker isn’t so perky when it’s warm. It’s like he hibernates in summer but becomes the spokesperson for the cold and windows in winter. I’ve tried to explain all this to people outside of work but they just don’t get it. Their weird co-workers are just socially awkward, not obsessed with random things. 

I’ve got to go now. It’s almost his scheduled lunch break slot and I don’t want to ruin the last fifteen minutes of my lunch with him. Sorry, but not sorry. 

I’ve gotten myself into some big trouble. I was riding my bike on the road with a couple of mates and we were being a bit reckless. It was fun before we did something bad. If I’m being honest I’m not sure that it was entirely our fault, but we were the ones who smashed into the massive sheet of glass and shattered it everywhere. So we’re the ones that are going to be in trouble.

In all seriousness though, why would anyone leave a massive sheet of glass out on the side of the road overnight? Surely that was an oversight? We fled the scene of the crime as soon as we rode into the glass. It smashed on impact and pieces of glass went all over the road, nature strip and footpath. It was really bad. A couple of us also got cut by the glass, but we kept riding as quickly as we could.

Now that the initial adrenaline has worn off, I’ve decided to go back to the scene of the crime in the morning and offer to pay for a glass replacement. Melbourne residents probably (rightfully) expect to not have their property destroyed in the middle of the night, even if they’ve questionably left their property at the front of their house. I wish that I had just been looking ahead when I was riding down that street. I was too busy looking behind me and laughing at my mates. The next thing I knew I had smashed into something hard where the road should have been.

It sucks that I’m going to have to be responsible for replacing the glass balustrade. I wish that my mates would want to pay for it as well. They keep saying that it’s not our fault because the people left it on the street. I do kind of agree, but my parents would be so mad at me if they heard what I did and then decided not to come clean about it.

This world is, like…so cruel and stuff. Mum and Dad just said I can’t go to this new nightclub opening up around the corner, Hellscape, and my life is literally over. FINALLY a good club opens up near me, and I can’t even go, because life just hates me. I literally cannot even, even if I tried to even. But that’s just life, or whatever. It’s cruel, just like me, and my soul, and stuff.

Had a pretty awesome dream last night though. I was meditating on an awesome track from my favourite band, Spiky Angel Musk. It was called ‘Tinted Soul’, about a guy who has a tinted soul, just like me. Anyway, I dreamt that I lived in a huge skyscraper, and ALL the windows had a coating of professional commercial tinting. I know that sounds like language used by the Man, but I know because I asked my secretary (I had a secretary) about where all the tinted windows came from, and she said that I ordered them to be professionally tinted myself. Then I realised that I was the CEO, and this was my company, and I was a TOTAL stooge. Like, I wasn’t even working for the Man: I WAS the Man, and everyone was working for me. Then I woke up, and I was all like…whoa. It was very profound.

Now I have to figure out what that means. Like, a whole building made out of tinted glass is like my dream home, which is pretty convenient because it was my home, in my dreams. But yeah, having those tinted windows everywhere would be awesome, because it’s like…a representation of my soul. Tinted and dark, but full of intrigue and stuff. But then, was my dream saying that my inner soul is actually really square, and that’s the true nature. Or maybe it’s more like…okay, so you’ve got Melbourne’s commercial glass tinting people, and they make things darker, and I was living in a building with LOADS of tinting, soooo…I need to make my life darker. Maybe I smile too much. Is there a darker hair dye than ‘Raven Midnight’? I gotta know.

-Harvey