The Lunchbreak

There are good things about being back in the office.

One of those things is lunchtime. 

Work being a bit on the light side of things at the moment, in that we're waiting for a lot of code to drop so I can do a proper job of things, not just a half-baked job of it, I booked myself in for a quick visit of the National Gallery of Victoria, which is five minutes walk from the office. 

I left on time. 

I checked myself in to the gallery five minutes later. 

The ushers scanned the ticket on my phone. 

And I happy danced into the gallery - and happy danced for the time I was in there. I haven't been in a gallery for a year. This is seriously good for the soul. 

Having 45 minutes to mooch around (so I could get back to my desk, with some lunch, in the hour) I had no agenda. Also, as the Trienniale is currently on display and I'm going back with Jonella in a few weeks time, I didn't feel the need to rush. I just wanted to mooch.

And mooch I did. 

I gasped at the installation in the Federation Court. 

I went and stared at the stained glass ceiling, as I always do. 

I went in search of the Picasso and Bacon, which I always hunt out - but they weren't there - and will probably return when the Triennale is dismantled. 

I had a look at some of the shifting galleries, taking note of a few things I will need to give more attention to when I go back with Jonella (or on another lunchtime roaming). 

I fell in love with the Fallen Fruit exhibition, which was as delightful as it was disturbing. 

And nearing the end of my trip, I went back to the Great Hall for a ten minute lie down on the couches they've installed. The instructions on the lie-lows read "Hop on. Look up." So I did.

45 minutes after entering the gallery, I went back out onto St Kilda Road and walked back to the office, happy, soul restored and grateful. Very grateful we can do stuff like this again. 

We are very, very fortunate and this cannot be forgotten. 

Today's song: