Smells like pink in here.

My colleague is on leave for a month, to be a bride, a honeymooner, a wife.

She has left me her office. Oh I do love her office.
Apart from being on the same floor as all the other librarians (as opposed to my solitary confinement 3 floors away), it has a chair that backs onto a wall, a computer moniter that no passer-by can see, and a view of who approaches the workroom and of half the woorkroom.
Talk about dragon seat of power!

However...it is also corrently full of love hearts and streamers and pink (pink!) balloons.
This is the legacy of a pre-wedding prank as only could be pulled by maternal middle-aged librarians.

Now, some of you may know of my disdain for the colour pink. I've never liked it, even as a child. On others, I think it is fine. But it's not for me.
But I cannot pop these fleshy pink balloons, and they are carpeting the room.
Little bubbles of trip hazards, they squeak against each other and up at me each time I walk through.

But by far the worst part is the pervasive latex/rubber smell that hits me each time I approach the doorway.
On top of the smell of the alcohol cleaning wipes being used today, and my already hyper charged up mind, it has been a day of very strange headspaces. And of thoughts not at all suitable to a day working with children.