Tuesday, 24 January 2012


image credited to http://tinyurl.com/6u6amuc

So, I’m at work, pretending that I’m getting shit done. But to my credit, it’s just after lunch and I had a pretty meaty sandwich with a crunch-corner yoghurt for dessert, so I’m understandably sleepy. Also, when I say “yum”, I can do no more than to understate the matter. But I digress. Sitting here flicking between Facebook and the word document that I’m supposed to be working on, I’m wondering how many hours of my life are genuinely wasted in the pit of inaction.

Now I’m not saying that a person is not entitled to bask in day-dreaming about the moment when their face hits the pillow, and to take a mental break. But I’d be lying if I didn’t confess to looking at the clock in disbelief after toiling away hours with melting my brain on Facebook or twitter or by following various online bread crumbs. And then when I find that I just don’t have enough time in the day to get through my work, plus a blog post, and then a session on refining my CV or professional profile, I can’t help but feel compelled to give myself a good boot in the shin (if that’s even humanly possible.)

If I were to scrape together and stitch up all of the moments and minutes and snatches of time that I’ve wasted by staring out of the window, alone, and used it for something productive, it’s likely that I’d be receiving my Nobel Prize for some great treasure to humanity right now, rather than shooting the breeze in the Thomas Cook HQ. But then again, I’d say blogging for the enjoyment of you fine folks qualifies as a productive pursuit. So I guess I can expect my prize in the mail any day now. Nice.

Jokes aside, I do wonder what I might be if I didn't let quite so many of the precious moments that are alloted to me on this world, slip through my fingers. Can you say 'Superwoman'?

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