It seemed strange to Sacha to be spending all day in an office and yet not get paid for it - but nonetheless she diligently stayed at the magazine for an extended period, her head bowed over the computer or - when Rona came up to her and quietly, politely explained that there were many more writers than computers in the magazine's office - bent over a notebook (provided by Si), sitting at the large table that stretched across the centre of the room.

When she finally walked back down the staircase from the office to the building's front door and out onto the street, the sky above was darkening blue-grey, mottled with clouds, and a cold wind was blowing the fallen leaves of plane trees down the pavement. It almost reminded her of Canberra, except for the tram-lines and traffic noise and narrow rooftops pressing crowded against the sky.

She was really pleased with her day's work. Si had granted her (after, Sacha surmised, some robust arguing from Rona) an extra week before her column made its illustrious debut, so she didn't feel too pressed for time, and it allowed her the luxury to get her head around exactly what she was doing. Now, on her way back to her flat, she felt on top of things. It was surprisingly easy to find blogs to review - which was the whole reason for the column existing, she supposed - and she decided that she'd divide the column into sections: news blogs, personal blogs, whatever other blogs took her fancy (of which very few so far had - after this first day of work she was enjoying the strangely satisfying sensation of having had all her prejudices confirmed). She was feeling quite good about it all: Rona had been right, it wasn't so much a job as an occupation that she needed. Which was not to say, after four months of getting grudgingly used to idleness, that she wasn't now looking forward immensely to getting back to the flat and soaking in the bath for a good long while.

But with this, she couldn't help but think of the gas bill and the water bill. An occupation was fine, but it still didn't pay. Si had made one or two suggestions that the funding for the magazine might be increased some time in the near future - which would mean he (or rather "we" - it was always "we" with Si, never "me") might be able to actually pay contributors a nominal sum - but already, Sacha had learned not to take anything Si said at face-value.

So in a way, she thought with a little confusion, she'd allowed herself to be talked into spending her time - time which could have been spent looking for a real job - writing a column on a subject that didn't particularly appeal to her, for a magazine that couldn't pay her anything. And she was happy about this?

Well yes, in a way she was. After all, she was meeting new people (new, slightly harried people, admittedly) and, most interestingly, she was seeing Rona in a whole new light. Because after all, and as she readily admitted to herself, Rona was her best friend in this city. And it was nice to have the opportunity to find out what made her tick.

Okay then, she told herself, maybe it's not so bad after all.