Josh
Josh used do post production work for a local film house, but has since moved on to doing outsourced PC support work for a government agency with a weighty acronym for a name. The work was less glamorous for sure, as he no longer had the small thrill of working vicariously with minor celebrities, but much more steady.
In fact, he had fallen into a comfortable daily routine: on his way home from work, he would duck through George’s courtyard, trundle up the stairs to his one bedroom, and with a single flourish sweep open the door, drop his pager on the counter, and check the deliveries cabinet for new mail. (There was rarely mail, unless he had recently purchased something large on eBay. The large mail hopper was great for receiving large parcels unattended, and he promised himself if an Internet grocery store opened in Halifax, he would never enter a bricks and mortar store again.) Usually after doffing his jacket, Josh would grab himself a Red Bull from the fridge, and hustle upstairs, where he would rip the dress-code-required tie from his neck (who wears a tie in Halifax, anyway?), and if it wasn’t raining sideways outside, retreat to his deck for a few quite moments of contemplation, usually followed by an hour of ranting on his weblog, thanks to the miracle of wireless networking.
In the mornings the routine was essentially reversed, but with less anticipation. »