|sent from: Plaza Olavide, Madrid, Spain. destination: London, UK|
First World Problem Day: my desk was moved to a different floor, down to the ground, where the short light of winter doesn’t ever make it in, and we sit under harsh flourescents. I have long given up on the idea of a nice personal space with my own pictures and decorations (these postcards, for instance!), as people are moved weekly as the needs of the project demand it. Even by these standards, the conditions are as basic as possible – we are crammed cheek by jowl, upstairs we were by the lift – BING! it would go when anyone arrived on the floor and we would shuffle to allow them to pass. Downstairs we are next to a server that hums along noisily, filling our heads with white noise. I wonder if it is the same sort of thing that people might use to calm babies, mental patients, and dangerous wild animals, to take the edge off their sharp edges.