I rather rashly decided to take some leave next week. This means of course that I'm catastrophically busy clearing the decks before the off. I don't ever remember work being like this previously. In days of yore, one's duties could go hang for a few days unless you were Foreign Minister or something. Now it's impossible to fetch a jaffa cake from the canteen without someone phoning you, demanding to know your whereabouts.
People bleat about how sad it is that children aren't allowed to gallivant in the streets unchaperoned by adults in the modern age. But they fail to behold the beam in their own grown-up eyes first. Most adults are constantly wired into the grid these days, and willingly so it seems. When my Dad was my age I dare say he could have hidden in the factory toilet for 4-5 hours a day without anyone batting an eyelid. Their generation must look upon ours and shudder. I would.
As Blur quite rightly averred: modern life is rubbish. I wouldn't mind if my job were actually that important, but it's trivia in a suit, like all modern jobs. Why people get so het up about these matters is beyond me. Relax and have a choc-ice whydontcha? Unless a flaming asteroid hurtles into Mother Earth over the weekend, I can deal with that next week. And even if I didn't, so-what? I'm sure the fates, or God, or the prime mover or whatever couldn't give a shite either way. Yes, perhaps I'll bugger off to Cornwall with the inbox still groaning. That'll show 'em. Grrr...
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