I have cleaned my keyboard, organised my filing and updated my contacts database. I am completely up to date with all current affairs, have an impressive grasp of the credit crunch and my mum has been sent a letter detailing my activities over the past month and two weeks. I have had so many cups of tea that a groove in my lower left tooth has started to brown. Not chocolate brown but a spun gold seam from tip to gum.
 
I'm beginning to struggle to keep my time wasting, constructive.
 
I am concerned at the amount of hours I am letting dribble by me each day. My motivation has taken a leave of absence leaving my mind to dictate what is fast becoming a week of excuses. Of course I am quick to pass the buck. Dreadful. The tasks which have been set are as simple as breathing, and as such I breathe, and I continue to waste time. Constructively.
 
But this is work. This is a job. Sometimes it lacks in pace and sometimes it isn't enjoyable. It is rarely continuously pleasurable as it is as ever changing as the seasons. Unfortunately for me, this season of work is resembling a long, wet British winter.
 
With the cold coming in and dousing London, the temperamental pilot light in the boiler at home is flicking out and joining it is the flame of my enthusiasm. My mind however is set firmly on two things. The thought of the amazing TV and surround sound system waiting for me at home at the end of every day and knowing that soon, hopefully soon, I'll have so much work there will be no time to waste. Constructively or otherwise.

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