The Miracle That Happens at Work Every Night

In addi­tion to study­ing a com­bined law and com­merce degree, I cur­rently work as a per­sonal assis­tant at the Uni­ver­sity of Mel­bourne. The work is great, flex­i­ble, I get to run around wher­ever I want, meet all sorts of strange and won­der­ful peo­ple, go for cof­fee breaks and any­thing else cool that you can think of. In fact, my boss even told me that in the case of an even­tual coup d’état due to their pol­icy of hir­ing mishapped dwarfs and midgets and forc­ing them to do all the cook­ing after an exten­sive ini­ti­a­tion process which involves some sort of humil­i­a­tion, I should run to the fourth floor bath­room, grab the indus­trial strength toi­let roll, throw it off the fourth floor bal­cony so that it forms a sorts of quasi rope, and shimmy my way down using the toi­let paper as a rope to ground level and make my way to even­tual free­dom. (Huh?)

So what is my job any­way? That’s actu­ally a darn good ques­tion as even I didn’t know myself a few weeks prior. After watch­ing Jen­nifer Hud­son in “Sexy and the City” and Anne Hath­away in “The Devil Wears Prada” purely for research rea­sons, I con­cluded that my role was to make everyone’s life bet­ter by grac­ing them with my pres­ence and occa­sion­ally stop­ping in aes­thet­i­cally pleas­ing poses for my close up and for peo­ple to admire my hand­some­ness that clearly was not the prod­uct of 3 hours in hair and makeup.

Sounds like a great job to me! The peo­ple are funny, the place is très cool with its glass every­thing, and the pay not bad even but there is one thing that I have been won­der­ing for a while now.

Who, in their right mind, agrees to cleans all this glass? It’s a heck of a lot of glass given that the walls, floors and ele­va­tors are all made of glass! (The win­dows are fun­nily enough, also made of glass. Who would have thought yes?) I imag­ine the con­ver­sa­tion that took place when they tried to hire some­one to clean the place went a lit­tle some­thing like this:

“Hi. We’re look­ing for some­one to clean the glass at this place.“
“That shouldn’t be a prob­lem sir. When would you like us to start“
“As soon as pos­si­ble but there is some­thing that you should know.“
“What is that sir?“
“The whole build­ing is made of glass.“
*phone drops on the other end and you can dis­tinctly hear in the back­ground a ruckus and some­one yelling out, “Quick! Call the ambulance!”*

Gosh, how do they even clean the roof? A mir­a­cle occurs at this glass atrium every night I tell you. One day I will camp out overnight just to see the clean­ers work their magic. In the words of the great *NSYNC (who I thought when I was 17 were the height of musi­cal genius, “This I Promise You.”