While sitting at my desk this morning, waiting for my computer to lurch ponderously into life, I started to drift off. The morning had been an endless rush from the moment the alarm clock erupted at 7am, to the moment I arrived in the office at 8:50am. In a strange way the office has become a morning sanctuary.
If only I had awoken at 7am. I woke a little before 6, and twisted to gaze at the blinking neon of the radio before snuggling down into the bedclothes - quietly celebrating an unexpected hour of nothing before the breakfast and lunch making routines kicked in.
The children required more sticks of dynamite than normal to “encourage” them out of bed today. When they arrived downstairs their hair can only be described as “an achievement”. Some people pay for hair like theirs. Imagine a cartoon scene involving high explosives, and you’re getting somewhere near.
If you’re wondering why this post is so bereft of adventure or entertainment, it’s because I’ve got nothing. Apart from staring at the computer for seven and a half hours a day for the last few days (and contemplating head-butting it more than once), I have achieved nothing. I’ve talked to nobody, written very few emails, and sentno private messages to speak of.
It feels like I’m falling through the cracks.