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Today, Holden Caulfield has been my only companion.

I have been moved out of the main office full of homeless persons’ officers and admin assistants into a small cordoned off area of the third floor. Apparently the managers had to fight the 'powers that be' like mad to get this desk space, and now that the girl who has been sitting here has got bored and transferred to a new department, they need someone to sit here and use the space so that they don’t lose it. There are supposed to be two other people who work here, but being visiting officers they are out of the building most of the time, driving around the borough. Occasionally they flit in and out, sometimes moving me off this computer even though the network is fully accessible from each and every workstation and there is a spare one opposite me. People get so damn attached to 'their' computer, 'their' phone and 'their' desk.

There is a hat stand here though. It’s exactly the kind I would have if I had any floor space left in my flat. I have spent a section of this morning devising more and more ridiculous ways to smuggle it out of the building. I shan’t put any of them into action, but it’s more interesting than having a conversation with yet another person who is overly impressed by my ability to mail merge.

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