It’s just as well that I don’t have a proper job. Although I have a suspicion that the orderliness of a 9-5 office desk would simplify my life, I also suspect that I am simply too lazy to get myself out of the house, with lenses in, hair brushed and underwear the right way round*, first thing each day. I’ve got to do it tomorrow (9 am appointment at the High School, where I’m a governor) and then be back here for a 10 o’clock meeting and somehow I feel it will need double strength coffee to kickstart me. Everyone else seems to have come back from the summer holidays keen and reinvigorated. I’m the only one who still hangs on wistfully to lazy days.
I arrived home so late for lunch that the Sage and our guests had already reached cheese and biscuits, so I skipped the rest of the meal and scoffed that hungrily. You might think arranging a lunch party for the same day as a meeting I couldn’t miss was bad planning, but our friends are leaving for Canada on Thursday, permanently. They left at 3, but three hours later I don’t seem to have done anything more than answer emails and I haven’t done any real work yet. And now I’m starting to think about cooking dinner instead.
I think I need a boss. Someone whom I’ll obey.
(Pause, while I give this due consideration)
*I’m not being fanciful here, I discovered the other evening that I’d been wearing my knickers inside out all day. I hadn’t felt very comfortable, but not so pained as to investigate the reason.