Tuesday 7 February 2012

February 7th: René Descartes (desk-art)

I have a desk, I have a job, therefore I have a desk job! Or something like that.
I’ve never before had a regular job, with regular hours and regular benefits.
It’s always been peculiar, unfavourable working hours, but now I’m getting used to my new role and my new life. For the last two years I’ve been up at 6am and starting at 7am or starting at 3pm so kicking my heels for the morning before dragging out work until it was nearly tomorrow.
Not anymore. Now I am in up at 8am and working at 9am.
This has a more structured, balancing effect on my day and on my world.
I now have a more structured week. I have Wednesdays. I have never before felt the true meaning of hump day; I’ve always despised that saying, until now. Now I can empathise and celebrate in the wonder of the middle of the working week.
Weekends: I have been unable to bask in the glory of a fulfilling weekend, drowned in family commitments an overcome with social engagements.
I’ve never had the full excitement of Friday; it used to be ‘thank God it’s Friday’ and I thought why?
It never held the same punctuation for me. Friday for me was all about building up for the busiest time of the week, suffering and listening to the highest of demands from the lowest of payers.
I am thoroughly enjoying my ‘normal’ life. It has somewhat reinvented and reconfigured my attitude and my social calendar
It’s not all as easy as it seems. I now face the same struggles and pressures as everyone else.
A lot more people have the same time off as me. This means that everywhere is busy. Shops, coffee shops, bars, restaurants, cinema, petrol stations and anywhere else you can think of.
This is a good thing of course. This is a good thing of course? This is a ‘good thing’, of course!
I’m not sure how that sentence should read. Please place the emphasis where you think best.
The places I used to visit when working those strange hours are now full. I can’t get my favourite seat in my favourite coffee shop. The discounted rates offered by my hairdresser are not applicable over the weekends. The car parks are all full up.
I haven’t had time to get used to or fed up of these things.
What I can say is that come Saturday and Sunday you know where I am, or rather, where I’m not.
My dinner time is now less erratic. My days are changing, they are becoming, more like yours.
So, no more excuses, it’s time to make the most of my time. Evenings should be spent on open mics or exploring the wider community, we can act out those immortal words from 80’s kids classic ‘Why don't you’. We are switching off our TV sets to doing something less boring instead.
I am already feeling the benefits and reaping the rewards. Perhaps it is just new boy syndrome, we shall have to wait and see.
I think this new rota will work well for me, I think I will excel with my new found freedom and regularity, I think I shall be happier inside and outside of work.
I think I deserve it and I think it’s been a long time coming.

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