Work is not always the most happiest of places at the moment. We’re going through a transitional phase in every sense of the word and for some curious reason we have the additional joy of various things being outlawed. As well as coat-stands, cupboards, plants and parcel delivery, the snack machine has been removed. The plan is that instead of repairing to the kitchen and grab a can of Diet Coke or Twix, we go and see if there’s any apple juice (really unlikely) or cereal bar (slightly more feasible) in the collaboration area. We have a this new space that replaced the reception, which a tall wooden box with a channel cut in the top. Several times a day ceramic pots that sit in the groove are replenished with “healthy snacks”. And the fridge has juice placed in it for the fleet of foot. The trouble is if you have a craving for a bar of chocolate of can of something fizzy, whilst you toil over a hot spreadsheet of an evening, you'd had to leave the building now to buy it.
To compensate all of the above, on a Friday afternoon treats are heaped onto the bar. The idea is that we get an email and can go and help ourselves - within reason. This Friday before the email was sent out the hoards has gathered and the noise they were making was drawing an eager crowd preparing for the bun fight.
I managed to secure a tiny bag of white chocolate buttons for my boss (who possibly is the grown-up Milky Bar Kid!), a fun-size Chrunchie and a little box of teeny Smarties.
I'm not sure I've ever seen such minute Smarties and decide that they would make some sort of giant ball pit for the penguins. The penguins were only too willing to oblige. I'm sure there's a reason that my mind leaps to penguins but I'm assuming only Smarties have the answer!
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