One of the nice things about this job I do is this: irrespective of what outrageousnesses are going on in the universe, regardless of the atrocities & indignities Melbourne's climate foists upon us, it is always - always - a clarifying, sobering, calming experience to approach the front door of the building and walk inside. For me, it's not really a function of the ostensive purpose and meaning of the building - it's more fundamental than that - it's a basic physical response to the space, the quietness, the classical order, the sheer volume of sky arching over the hill and the gardens.
But once inside that feeling tends to ebb away somewhat. It's always there somewhere and it can be drawn on by things as simple as looking around, or looking up, when I remember to do this. But as a rule it becomes just like anywhere else that people are doing their jobs. Perhaps, as I've noted, a little bit more peculiar than other work places, I'm not certain.
When I came in today a colleague approaching from the other end of the hall called a cheery good morning. As we got nearer, he then said, Ha! you look like I feel! Whoosh went my peaceful feeling, to be replaced with a simple, silent, inward, all-caps WTF. Anyone's guess as to what he actually meant. I'm still wasting precious seconds of my life trying to work it out.
For the record: