Today the microwave in my office kitchen broke down. Someone suggest I should take my soup up 1st floor and heat it up. So I did and what a pleasant surprise I stumbled upon.
The kitchen upstairs is cosier and brighter. It has sofa, each table had this little cactus decoration. There is a chocolate bar vending machine. There is a computer for surfing the Internet. There is a 4 level bookshelf that is tucked at the corner. While heating up my lunch, I had a peep at what is sitting at the bookshelf. Not a great collection, but a few good books here and there. I would be interested in reading:
- Undomestic Goddess – Sophie Kinsella
- Bridget Jones’s diary and the edge of reason(book 1 and 2) – Helen Fielding
- On Chesil Beach – Ian McEwan
- Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis de Berniere
Note: this list would remind me of the bookshelf in the office if I run out of books to read.
I want to be selective. From the shelf I don’t think I will be reading Ian Rankin and Danielle Steele. Of all the awful things that had happened to me at work recently, this little corner was a pleasant discovery. I think I will have lunch up here in this kitchen more often, even everyday. Like one visitor said, it is quiet up here, better view, and free of gossips about other people’s husbands and wives issues and family problems during lunch. This daily dose of gossips servings are juicy in the kitchen downstairs where I eat. hmmm… I have enough problem of my own, I don’t want to listen to other people’s.
At my first impulse, I thought this bookshelf at work is such a good idea that I thought perhaps I could contribute some of my own books. Then the little devil that sits in my left shoulder whispered into my ears and I concluded “Nah, I could be charitable, but not now.”