Working from home today. 12 men are trying to chop down a big tree that stands right next to one of the office buildings; the power to the offices has to be turned off every time they attempt it (this is the fourth attempt).
Yesterday I hung out at work, clearing out junk (I think our department breeds ancient typewriters and old computer screens; I thought I’d sorted it out already, but yesterday found another screen and three more typewriters. Where do they come from?), but that is only fun for about 5 minutes. Today the power went out at 10am and I have lugged home (well, electronically) a book I have just started editing. But suddenly I’m taken back to the years of writing the thesis: there’s all this other stuff to do, rather than work. Have a snack. Flip through an old newspaper. Choose appropriate music for working (yo la tengo). Open curtains. Stare out window. Stare at shadows on wall. Go out and collect some rain water from the tank. Come back and resume position at desk. Stare at desk. Consider tidying desk. Go online. All this is build up to actually opening the document I am working on.
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