Found this in a treasure trove in Galway, Ireland, i.e. a second-hand bookstore that had somehow acquired a vast bulk of Dalkey Archive leftovers. You can see why this particular publisher went for this: it has that detached, minimal, French post-nouveau roman style that they often go for. Having said that, it didn't do much for me. I was looking forward to some clever observations on the alienating qualities of the office, but there's little of that. Instead, it's much more about the debilitating mind, and what is good about it is that it allows the more objective truth to shine through the subjective narrative of our protagonist. That is, one reads between the lines that the new secretary isn't all that bad: rather, it is the mind we are roaming in for the time being that is fucked up.
In this sense it is a similar work to Bernlef's Out of mind, which deals with dementia, and it is also similarly flawed. Apparently, it is hard to portray the faltering mind without it coming off as rather gimmicky and contrived.