Work or "work" has been an eye-opener for me in the last two weeks.
It's not, at the moment, that taxing - I've mastered the art of putting papers in alphabetical order which is a big part of the job here (handling paperclips is also a major art, as is kicking the photocopier, and I must give myself an A+ in all departments). So I've got plenty of time to myself.
Just ... no ... blogging ...!
What are lunch hours, spare moments at work for, if not for the joy of roaming the web and leaving half-witted spew on other people's rants and quarter-formed-thought-spaces? What are they for but to post drivel that you regret later, when similarly-minded individuals point out your inconsistencies and stupidities and mock you also? It's pain, I tell you.
I have a computer sitting right on my desk; unfortunately, the darn thing does not switch on. It's a mockery. It sits there to haunt me; to remind me that blogs exist but I can't reach them. I feel as though it's a very tempting chocolate mousse, but each time I reach out to grab hold of it, it darts away, just a centimetre away from me, and I am spending my time all day at work, jumping across the table, my arms flailing, as this chocolate mousse races away from my grasp, but I can never grab hold of it and stuff my face, because it's out of my reach, it's just not quite there, it's ... yep, it's been a slow chocolate week too.
I've been trying to comfort myself with doing the sudoku and the crossword, and reading the mindless entertainment and fashion/celebrity parts of the newspaper (hoping it will numb my braincells to the point of insensitivity to pain). It's not working.
Oh, for internet connection at work! How did people do without it? I guess they just ... worked?
What a horrible idea. No wonder people got addicted to cigarettes.
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3 comments:
Good to see you back!
I'm completely incapable of writing anything more intelligent currently.
Oh my goodness. It's one of Those Places.
Yes, it's one of Those Places. I think I could deal with the filing cabinets with no handles, the painters and sanders who've been renovating a door (how many times do you need to paint one door?) for the last week, the fact that the cupboard of manila folders bursting with info is ready to burst down and shower me with papers ...
If it weren't for the fact that that pooch is getting pampered more than the rest of us put together. Its meals are more expensive, it has a ready stock of doggy snacks and a doggy bed and pram, where the rest of us sit cramped in corners and drink tap water.
Yes, I admit it, I've got dog envy here. It's not something to be proud of, but it's happening. If only I had Internet Connection, I'd be one up on the pooch in one area of my life.
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