Friday 24th January 2014

I still have a job. And for that I am very thankful. I mean, there have been times these past few years when the threat of the sack, for no other reason than the bean counters see nothing more than we were over-staffed and so some folks will just have to lose their jobs. No, let me correct that, lots of folks had to lose their jobs.

If the worse thing I can complain about is that I have lost my desk at Ramsgate, then in the cosmic scale of things, then its not that much of a big deal, is it? No, it’s not. What it does mean on a day to day basis, when the wind blows and the monkeys are on shore, I will work from home. I will get up, connect the work laptop, and get to work. Heck, I might even put some pants on before lunch. Yes, that is my working life. My commute lasts from the time it takes to get my sorry ass out of my pit, stumble down the stairs to the dining room table. I mean, on occasion there is a cat in the way. Can you image how long that sort of thing can delay a trip to work?

Once the laptop is working, I go into the kitchen to make my second coffee of the day. I say second cup, as Jools brings me my first when I am still laying in bed listening to the early news. Covered in cats. I have another coffee. Maybe have some cereal. Or instant oats. I might put something on the I player, or maybe a CD. This is work.

Sometimes I go into Ramsgate just to remind myself of what work can be….. I do get stuff done when I’m at home. If the cats let me. I say that as the cats do like having me around, so they can meow. Meow at me, asking for, well, meow. Whatever meow is. They have the just the one word for everything in their world. That does not help. They sit on my laptop, look at me and say. Meow. What does that mean: do you find your life worthwhile? All that in one simple noise.

Probably they just want feeding. But you see I hide their food. Yes, I put their food where it always is, right there on the counter in the utility room. Just where it always is. And every time they are hungry, that seems to be the last place they can think of looking for it. Meow, they say.

Food? It’s on the counter.

Meow.

On.

The.

Counter.

Meow?

Oh look, let me show you. I get up, walk into the kitchen, through into the utility room. And I point to the counter.

Meow?

I pick the cat up, put it on the counter, point it to the overflowing bowl of food.

Meow.

Which means, I’m not hungry. Apparently.

But it’s nearly the weekend. So, lets pack up the computer, put on some pants and do some other work related stuff. Like sit at the table doing stuff on the computer. My computer. But its my stuff. We might drink some beer. Take some photographs. Or travel to London. Or maybe even sit inside and watch the raindrops running down the outside of the window.

It is now the weekend. And in fact the weekend is already at least two hours old. I did go into the office today, and in commuting this morning I saw a splendid sunrise, which I reproduce for you here:



There, almost like being there.

Have a great weekend.