So I've started a fabulous new full-time job.
Writing and editing-wise, it's very, very me.
I'm now the spanking new editor of a website.
The plus side to the new job is, well, I am working in town. I've always wanted to work in the middle of Joburg CBD, and now I'm in the heart of the financial district.
There are coffee shops everywhere, newly cobbled streets, art all over the show – it's jacked, and it's super inspirational for the line of work I'll be writing in. (A lot to do with Johannesburg itself.)
There was a strike yesterday. Only in town. It was quite spectacular. Cosatu workers screaming and ululating down Market Street, which I could watch from the safety of my office veendow.
One dude got pulled from his taxi, other strikers just somma parked off in the middle of the intersection.
This is why I love working in town. Shit happens here.
Also, if I need to pop out for anything, it's there, it's easy. There are cafe's on every corner - I can grab a latte and feel very New York about it all. I'm not wobbling around in heels like Carrie Bradshaw though. Flats boet. In town, it's flats.
I can buy Fatima's samoosas everyday - a block away. (Who ate all the
Just getting in and out during rush hour traffic takes the skills of a Formula One driver. Taxis surround you, cutting in and stopping, people walk across the streets willy-nilly and I'm always on guard for a smash and grab.
But you can't deny that there is a serious atmosphere, here in the thick of things. Noisy as fuck, but a new world. Rivonia has nothing on this shit.
Traveling the highway is the easiest part of my day though. Getting out of town at rush hour is a very stressful experience.
Workwise, the position takes a bit of manageability. Organising other writers and photographers to cover certain stories, editing their stuff and writing my own stuff too. It's fun, and it's hard work. Alongside Wibble and all the other crap I have to churn out.
My weekends shall be precious.