Pick my brains

I'm not sure what the rules are for doing this thing at weekends. During the week I have to get it done shortly after getting up as I need to get going to work. Today I don't have to go to work so didn't get up for a while and even when I did I didn't have any deadlines so there was no urgency getting this done.

As I'm imposing this regime on myself, I suppose there are no rules, or if there are then I have to write them.

The first rule of daily blog is that you do not blog about daily blog.

That means I have to force myself to stop being so self referential when I do this. This is a good thing; there are only so many ways I can write about what I'm actually doing at that very moment before I disappear up my own rectum in a recursive paradox. Even though I am still doing it now. I must stop.

This weekend isn't going to be as relaxed as I was hoping as I did have to bring some work home with me. This is partly because there's a lot to get done, but also because I work in an open plan office. We've all been in this office for about three years, and it's true to say that my productivity has gone down in that time. It could be because I'm getting older and my brain is seizing up. However, it could also because people feel it's absolutely fine to wander up to me at any time and ask if they can "pick my brains" (rather worrying expression, that) even if I'm deep in the middle of something else.

I like to think I'm good at multitasking, but there are limits. Whether writing or coding I do find that I do best when I'm in the zone which usually means at last half an hour without interruption.

In an amusing aside I was actually interrupted in the middle of writing that last sentence so even working at home is not perfect.

It is undoubtedly better, although there is an irritating side effect. When I'm at work time passes slowly so in theory there's enough of it. The weekends seem to have a different clock speed altogether. Often I've still got the taste of breakfast in my mouth when I look up at the clock and to my horror discover it's after 2pm. That's the watershed - on a weekend once you've seen the back of two or three o' clock then you might as well give up - it's all over bar the shrieking.

To be fair Saturdays aren't as bad as Sundays. I still suffer from an irrational depression on Sunday evenings; this is a hang over from years ago when I was still at school. It was always worst in the autumn. The sun had set, there was only That's Life to look forward to on the TV, and in the morning Hell in Highgate awaited me. However much I may complain now, at least I'm no longer at school.

Right, it's nearly 2pm. I'd better get this done and dusted while there's life in the old day yet.

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