I am not fond of shaky buildings.

The novelty of working on the 33rd floor of a sea-fronting building has lost its lustre. If an earthquake (and its aftershocks) 670km away can cause my coffee to ripple, the windows to whine and its blinds to swing, and generally make me feel like I am having the worst hangover ever, then IT IS NOT A GOOD THING.

And yet here I sit tapping away at my keyboard. Because while buildings further away from the earthquake are vacated at the slightest hint of a tremor, the security and management of this one remain asleep.