Confessions of a former skanky corporate ho

Being back in Sydney has been interesting. Much less of the nostalgia-mixed-with-fear semi panic-attack of my last trip through the CBD. Feeling a bit tired though, which I imagine is the socialising and tearing round trying to catch up with people rather than the eminently reasonable office hours I’ve been keeping.

Last night was good. Went with a few work colleagues down to the Lord Nelson in the Rocks (Australia’s oldest pub), then walked round circular quay to the Opera Bar on the lower concourse. Gorgeous night view of the Harbour Bridge, the ferries, the giant ocean-liner “The World”, the city scape and the Museum of Contemporary Art. Some fine sounds too: Mosaic Sonique were playing, a two-man lounge-jazz/techno-funk sort of combo. Not much more than chill-out music, but it set the mood nicely. Ah, Sydney Harbour at night and in summer. I miss that.

That said, I am also remembering why I got desperate to leave a large commercial firm and the Sydney-corporate environment (“the world of corporate-whoredom” as a number of my friends used to refer to it. In this set confessions as to ludicrously excessive stints at work would be greeted with an admiringly-disparaging “you ho!” This reaction greeted my marathon thirty-two hour stretch in the office … admittedly an office with harbour view, but sometimes dawn just isn’t that exciting …)

Anyway, no-one I know here can leave the office before 6.30 pm at the earliest. If they can, they can manage one drink and then need to go back afterwards. Pressure of work means you always have to accept people might not be able to make any given commitment: indeed, many who were hoping they might be able to see me Tuesday night got caught back at the office.

Which was just fine, I knew from personal experience that that might well happen. But the scariest of my Tuesday messages from those who couldn’t make it was the text message I received at 11.20 pm reading: “Just left the office! Sorry to miss you, are you around for the weekend?”

Also on Tuesday, one of my hosts stopped by the bar where I was drinking (perhaps too many) cocktails with Rob to announce: “Yay, I’m so proud – it’s eight o’clock and I’ve left the office! … I’m going home.”

Then there was the poor chap who couldn’t meet me for a drink last night before 9 pm, then missed by minutes his ferry from North Sydney to Circular Quay where I was hanging out with the gang at Opera Bar …

Anyway, I have nothing but admiration for the people who can sustain the pace as lawyers up here (let alone that pace and successful relationships with other lawyers, and I know half-a-dozen couples in this category) – but I’m just not one of them anymore.