Was bedeutet "Where Have All the Good Safe Havens Gone?" auf Deutsch?

Unbelievable.

I recall my days at the repair facility in Dallas where safe havens were scarce, but secure. After all, the very definition of a safe haven is a place to take care of business without any significant disturbances.

Here in Germany, I've already been impressed with the loo at the two train stations I use on my daily commute. More than once, I've thought to myself that perhaps I should ask the custodians how they keep those bathrooms so clean. Graffiti aside, they're probably nicer than the bathroom in my flat.

At work, there are several locations to choose from, but because it's a warehouse type environment, some venues are more dodgy than others. My personal favorite is upstairs next to the conference room. However, that's a far bit from my patch.

There are a couple on the shop floor, one of which is suitable for an entire dinner party. Unfortunately, the lights are on "auto power off," triggered by a motion detector. God help you if you get trapped reading the daily financial times and find yourself literally in the dark.

The other venue is just downstairs from my office. That proximity somewhat makes up for the fact that the co-workers who tend to use this particular place seem to be vile and disgusting. All things considered, it's tolerable, and I do know that it's regularly cleaned.

However, that's what's prompted me to jot this down. No less than 15 minutes ago, I was doing my bit and patting myself on the back for eating a lot more greens as of late when all of a sudden, the housekeeper came right in and started mopping the floor. No announcement of "housekeeping!" or "anyone in here?" Instead, she just came right on in and started moving around with her mop.

Well, this encouraged me to speed things up a little, and to be honest, I wasn't in there reading a book or anything. But, I was fully expecting to be able to complete things without having to worry about a visit from the hausfrau.

Maybe it's the fact that she's a woman that sort of irks me. It's not so much that she's a woman but that she now has the power to be able to say to her other co-workers, "See that guy over there? He's a complete disgustoid. I think his insides are rotten."

I really don't know if people of that profession actually discuss these things outside of the toilet area, but I wasn't really hoping to ever have to give it thought, you know?

Dang, this is absolutely not the way I wanted to finish up a Monday afternoon.

Well done Arsenal, nice way to squeak a win out yesterday. I only feel half guilty for missing most of the match, but I was not in a position to tell a pretty girl that I couldn't go to the art expo with her on account of "Arsenal are at home to Wigan." Home to ManU, Liverpool, or even Bolton maybe, but not Wigan. Besides, we made it into a pub in time to see the last 8 minutes and all of the highlights.

Who knows, maybe I can convince Sonja to become an Arsenal fan, too. We'll see.

cheers
bryan