ballerinas-feet

It’s not so bad. It’s really not. She found a blazer untainted by Franz Catka’s omnipresent white fur, and nobody seems too horrified by her presence. Much to her credit, Mina feels, she even managed a friendly introduction with the young lady on reception - agonisingly vapid though it was. Sitting in her office for the first time, her first instinct is to decorate, though the large stack of files waiting on her desk also tempts her fancy. The chair, she is pleased to find, is comfy. Not to mention spinny. Lounging back, she rests her ballerina flat-ed feet on the desk and casts around, deciding to start on the decor. She can’t concentrate on work, after all, with such a blank room. Not stimulating at all. A figure passes the open door, and Mina calls out: “Framed certificates of qualification on the wall: educated and well-to-do young lady, or desperate try hard? I need to think about what sort of message I’m sending out with my interior design.”