No work and no play make Stuart a dull boy

Well, it’s official: INoGITCH haven't a clue what to do with me. Which is understandable as I’ve only got another 9 days to go before disappearing off into the scary blue yonder. Not an awful lot of projects to manage that’ll fit into those timescales. So instead of doing anything productive, I seem to be spending most of my time ‘looking busy’. Which I hate. In fact, that’s mostly what I’ve been doing for the past three days: hating looking busy.

Now I know a lot of people would be thrilled to be in this position, I could sod about to my heart’s content for the next 9 days and get paid for it. Woo hoo! Only I can’t do that. I’m one of those people who takes their job very seriously – I care whether it’s done right or not, no matter how pointless the task at hand may be, I want to do it well. And I find it very difficult to ‘be’ any other way. Hugely developed work ethic me. HUGE. Like a mastodon on steroids is my work ethic. When it bends over to tie its shoelaces, its butt eclipses the sun. Other people's fat mamas orbit it: it’s that big. So twiddling my thumbs is akin to slow torture for my little head.

And it’s not like I haven’t got things I could be getting on with, either! I could be researching ‘The Standalone’, hell I could be writing the damn thing, or ‘The Fantasy Thing’ come to that. But I just can’t do that at work, it grates against that damnable work ethic.

Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored…