(no subject)
Gad. I was periferally aware during the night that it was windy and raining.
It still is.
I don't want to go to work.
It still is.
I don't want to go to work.
2004-01-08
(no subject)
Gad. I was periferally aware during the night that it was windy and raining.
It still is.
I don't want to go to work.
It still is.
I don't want to go to work.
Rumbling and rumination
Well, I made it to the office despite my inclination to hide under the quilt (I've said it before: they're continental quilts, not duvets).
It seemed like a good idea before I left the house to wear a fedora, but I rather revised that opinion as I reached the Lagrangian Point between home, the newsagents, Clapham North and Stockwell tube stations and the railway station. It was there, you see, that the wind/rain combination was at its worst and I could only keep the hat on by clutching at it desperately which in turn meant that rain entered my sleeve via the up-turned cuff and trickled down (up) my arm to settle in a pool somewhere around my elbow.
Nice.
I am meanwhile impressed, even by my standards, at the complete lack of motivation I currently feel towards doing anything even remotely productive in the office. I have a number of things to do, and I suppose that I should make an attempt on them today (some of them are currently lying in the Pre-Cambrian layers of my in-tray). Most of them involve semiliterate letters from disgruntled members of the public which we are supposed to answer within 15 working days.
I am currently working on a definition of 15 working days that brings some of the more elderly pieces of correspondence back within target.
At some point too, I must tackle the growing pile of over claim check failures accumulating dandruff-like next to the telephone. But this is all boring beyond belief. The day, however, is not a complete loss: I have brought my juke box in with me and I can at least have a little music while Iwork shirk.
I think a little later I shall dig out my rhyming dictionary and make a further attempt at writing something that rhymes. I made a start on something yesterday but it is rubbish. I like to fool myself that I can write prose with the best of them, but poetry is most definitely not my forté as I have mentioned here on LJ more than once. Do not be surprised if my efforts never make the transition from the hard drive to [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]. Having said that, I should stir myself and do something creative on that forum at some point.
Ho hum. So much time, so little inclination.
It seemed like a good idea before I left the house to wear a fedora, but I rather revised that opinion as I reached the Lagrangian Point between home, the newsagents, Clapham North and Stockwell tube stations and the railway station. It was there, you see, that the wind/rain combination was at its worst and I could only keep the hat on by clutching at it desperately which in turn meant that rain entered my sleeve via the up-turned cuff and trickled down (up) my arm to settle in a pool somewhere around my elbow.
Nice.
I am meanwhile impressed, even by my standards, at the complete lack of motivation I currently feel towards doing anything even remotely productive in the office. I have a number of things to do, and I suppose that I should make an attempt on them today (some of them are currently lying in the Pre-Cambrian layers of my in-tray). Most of them involve semiliterate letters from disgruntled members of the public which we are supposed to answer within 15 working days.
I am currently working on a definition of 15 working days that brings some of the more elderly pieces of correspondence back within target.
At some point too, I must tackle the growing pile of over claim check failures accumulating dandruff-like next to the telephone. But this is all boring beyond belief. The day, however, is not a complete loss: I have brought my juke box in with me and I can at least have a little music while I
I think a little later I shall dig out my rhyming dictionary and make a further attempt at writing something that rhymes. I made a start on something yesterday but it is rubbish. I like to fool myself that I can write prose with the best of them, but poetry is most definitely not my forté as I have mentioned here on LJ more than once. Do not be surprised if my efforts never make the transition from the hard drive to [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]. Having said that, I should stir myself and do something creative on that forum at some point.
Ho hum. So much time, so little inclination.
Rumbling and rumination
Well, I made it to the office despite my inclination to hide under the quilt (I've said it before: they're continental quilts, not duvets).
It seemed like a good idea before I left the house to wear a fedora, but I rather revised that opinion as I reached the Lagrangian Point between home, the newsagents, Clapham North and Stockwell tube stations and the railway station. It was there, you see, that the wind/rain combination was at its worst and I could only keep the hat on by clutching at it desperately which in turn meant that rain entered my sleeve via the up-turned cuff and trickled down (up) my arm to settle in a pool somewhere around my elbow.
Nice.
I am meanwhile impressed, even by my standards, at the complete lack of motivation I currently feel towards doing anything even remotely productive in the office. I have a number of things to do, and I suppose that I should make an attempt on them today (some of them are currently lying in the Pre-Cambrian layers of my in-tray). Most of them involve semiliterate letters from disgruntled members of the public which we are supposed to answer within 15 working days.
I am currently working on a definition of 15 working days that brings some of the more elderly pieces of correspondence back within target.
At some point too, I must tackle the growing pile of over claim check failures accumulating dandruff-like next to the telephone. But this is all boring beyond belief. The day, however, is not a complete loss: I have brought my juke box in with me and I can at least have a little music while Iwork shirk.
I think a little later I shall dig out my rhyming dictionary and make a further attempt at writing something that rhymes. I made a start on something yesterday but it is rubbish. I like to fool myself that I can write prose with the best of them, but poetry is most definitely not my forté as I have mentioned here on LJ more than once. Do not be surprised if my efforts never make the transition from the hard drive to [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]. Having said that, I should stir myself and do something creative on that forum at some point.
Ho hum. So much time, so little inclination.
It seemed like a good idea before I left the house to wear a fedora, but I rather revised that opinion as I reached the Lagrangian Point between home, the newsagents, Clapham North and Stockwell tube stations and the railway station. It was there, you see, that the wind/rain combination was at its worst and I could only keep the hat on by clutching at it desperately which in turn meant that rain entered my sleeve via the up-turned cuff and trickled down (up) my arm to settle in a pool somewhere around my elbow.
Nice.
I am meanwhile impressed, even by my standards, at the complete lack of motivation I currently feel towards doing anything even remotely productive in the office. I have a number of things to do, and I suppose that I should make an attempt on them today (some of them are currently lying in the Pre-Cambrian layers of my in-tray). Most of them involve semiliterate letters from disgruntled members of the public which we are supposed to answer within 15 working days.
I am currently working on a definition of 15 working days that brings some of the more elderly pieces of correspondence back within target.
At some point too, I must tackle the growing pile of over claim check failures accumulating dandruff-like next to the telephone. But this is all boring beyond belief. The day, however, is not a complete loss: I have brought my juke box in with me and I can at least have a little music while I
I think a little later I shall dig out my rhyming dictionary and make a further attempt at writing something that rhymes. I made a start on something yesterday but it is rubbish. I like to fool myself that I can write prose with the best of them, but poetry is most definitely not my forté as I have mentioned here on LJ more than once. Do not be surprised if my efforts never make the transition from the hard drive to [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]. Having said that, I should stir myself and do something creative on that forum at some point.
Ho hum. So much time, so little inclination.
(no subject)
...and for those who may possibly interested, the Thin White Duke is a youthful 57 today.
Time for a blast of Ziggy Stardust.
Time for a blast of Ziggy Stardust.
(no subject)
...and for those who may possibly interested, the Thin White Duke is a youthful 57 today.
Time for a blast of Ziggy Stardust.
Time for a blast of Ziggy Stardust.
(no subject)
Pah.
I have just spent a large wad of the evening trying to write up a covenant sheet for NWO. I have a quote from The Prince and two paragraphs, and I can't concentrate on it because I'm thinking ahead to a couple of the character sheets which I can't really write until this is done since we need the consistent background in place.
I'm stopping for tonight because it's driving me mad, but on the other hand, despite the current bout of frustration, the enthusuiasm is beginning to kick in, a couple of my plot lines which have been slowly developing over the past few games are coming to the fore and I'm looking forward to a bit of chicanery.
It's particularly gaulling because it's all just there behind my eyes waiting to spill out onto the page, but right now I can't compartmentalise my thoughts enough to concentrate on the one thing I need to finish, so rather than put my fist through the monitor in frustration, I shall do something else.
I have just spent a large wad of the evening trying to write up a covenant sheet for NWO. I have a quote from The Prince and two paragraphs, and I can't concentrate on it because I'm thinking ahead to a couple of the character sheets which I can't really write until this is done since we need the consistent background in place.
I'm stopping for tonight because it's driving me mad, but on the other hand, despite the current bout of frustration, the enthusuiasm is beginning to kick in, a couple of my plot lines which have been slowly developing over the past few games are coming to the fore and I'm looking forward to a bit of chicanery.
It's particularly gaulling because it's all just there behind my eyes waiting to spill out onto the page, but right now I can't compartmentalise my thoughts enough to concentrate on the one thing I need to finish, so rather than put my fist through the monitor in frustration, I shall do something else.
(no subject)
Pah.
I have just spent a large wad of the evening trying to write up a covenant sheet for NWO. I have a quote from The Prince and two paragraphs, and I can't concentrate on it because I'm thinking ahead to a couple of the character sheets which I can't really write until this is done since we need the consistent background in place.
I'm stopping for tonight because it's driving me mad, but on the other hand, despite the current bout of frustration, the enthusuiasm is beginning to kick in, a couple of my plot lines which have been slowly developing over the past few games are coming to the fore and I'm looking forward to a bit of chicanery.
It's particularly gaulling because it's all just there behind my eyes waiting to spill out onto the page, but right now I can't compartmentalise my thoughts enough to concentrate on the one thing I need to finish, so rather than put my fist through the monitor in frustration, I shall do something else.
I have just spent a large wad of the evening trying to write up a covenant sheet for NWO. I have a quote from The Prince and two paragraphs, and I can't concentrate on it because I'm thinking ahead to a couple of the character sheets which I can't really write until this is done since we need the consistent background in place.
I'm stopping for tonight because it's driving me mad, but on the other hand, despite the current bout of frustration, the enthusuiasm is beginning to kick in, a couple of my plot lines which have been slowly developing over the past few games are coming to the fore and I'm looking forward to a bit of chicanery.
It's particularly gaulling because it's all just there behind my eyes waiting to spill out onto the page, but right now I can't compartmentalise my thoughts enough to concentrate on the one thing I need to finish, so rather than put my fist through the monitor in frustration, I shall do something else.