I think I might be undergoing une crise d'emploi, as we say on the riviera. I'm absolutely bereft of concentration when at my place of work. For the last couple of months or so my mind refuses to knuckle down and whittle away at the in-tray. One always goes through peaks and troughs of application of course, but I don't think this is one of those. It's more deep-seated than that. I've basically fallen out of love with my job, not that I ever really fancied it that much, if I'm honest. I just needed somewhere to lay my hat during the day.
And it's a vicious circle too, this inability to silence the voices and actually to type up the minutes of last Thursday's uneventful meetings, because as the time ticks by, one becomes ever more disheartened by the increasing pile of trivial tasks at hand. This increases the inertia, and the problem grows at an exponential rate.
The problem is that I've mentally washed my hands of my current duties, but can't be bothered to end it. It's like being locked in a loveless marriage. I need the other party to force me out of the nuptial home because I'm too lily-livered to pull the trigger myself. So I keep taking liberties in the hope that matters come to a head.
In fact, a good old row with the job would help a lot. Some hysterical screaming from yours truly along the lines of "You've changed. There's no excitement any more. I can't honestly say I love you at this stage in our relationship.", followed by some plate-hurling might do the trick. Perhaps it is possible to save this car crash of a relationship after all. Mind you, I have found myself trawling the web sites of employment agencies rather a lot of late, and furtively too. Whenever anyone in the office catches me, I have to shut down the browser quickly and pretend I've been browsing classic 80s porn sites. I generally don't like deceit, except when it makes for an easy life. For me, I mean.
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