A day in the life of one of our Designers – Harry
My eyes open ever so slowly as my morning alarm rings in the background. The tune to Super Mario Bros sends me back twenty years to Christmas morning. But in this case the temptation not to throw my phone against the wall overpowers the excitement I had receiving the game all those years ago.
The usual morning rituals kick in. The shower, brushing of the teeth, mouth wash. The never ending feud with myself in regards to whether or not I can be bothered flossing. Glance out the window to determine my attire for the day, knowing that as soon as I got to work I would immediately regret the decision to wear pants instead of shorts. Whoever is controlling the weather nowadays should really make up their mind.
Out of the house on time today. Which is always nice as I don’t have to listen to the daily routine of the neighbours argue about who will be taking the car to work. We all know the winner of that argument. I check the mailbox then continue to make my way down the street to the bus stop, only to see the ’292 to QVB via the Freeway’ rushing passed, almost completely empty.
Three Chet Faker songs, and the smoke of an entire cigarette consumed passively later, another bus arrives. As I get on, the smell of mango and citrus shampoo is overpowered by the musky body odour of a man who looks like he’s been on the bus for three weeks straight. Of course the line of people shuffling to the back of the bus stops just as I come face to face with the odorous human. It’s going to be a great day…
The fifteen minute trip through four suburbs and over the bridge gives me time to zone out of the chaotic world that is around me. Taking in the sights of our beautiful city, I try and remind myself not to take any of what I have for granted. It’s easy to get worked up over the small things, but life for the most part looks pretty good from where I’m standing.
The QVB is in sight as the bus comes to a halt. I join the river of masses making their way to work, knowing that there is a bright (red) light at the end of my tunnel. The grumpy faces all around make me wonder why it has come down to people sacrificing their happiness for what they currently do. Not my place to judge I guess.
I make my way over the Pyrmont bridge and a short walk later I’m at the small grey door. You know… the one beside the big red one. A few of us consider this to be the door that leads to the magical land of RedBalloon. The back door to a place where people aren’t afraid to glance a smile or even stomp their feet when it is called upon. A place full of praise and appreciation for even the smallest victories. I can already hear the laughter of the marketing team before I walk up the stairs.
It’s going to be a great day…