I've entered a little strait of calm water in my quest to find professional satisfaction. I recently decided to fight fire with fire by actually being organised and diligent in the face of my daunting workload, and this seems to have helped. I've taken to looking upon my duties as a personal slight and/or threat. They challenge my well being and I won't have that. So I set my chin against them and vow to do my utmost to destroy them. This gives me energy and a motive to work.
History teaches me that this mood will pass and that ennui and inaction will creep back in, like the draught under a shit door. No matter. I shall enjoy it while it lasts. I've always been cyclical like this. Pointless fighting it now.
I'm home alone this evening. The missus is away on business. They're strange, nights alone like this. I always look upon them as an opportunity to get shit loads done, but it never pans out like that. I run out of inspiration when she's not around. By the time I've hurled together an uninspiring supper, it's about midnight, so I turn in. The funny thing is when I'm out for the night, she always goes to town on dinner, cooking elaborate dishes that require several saucepans and specialist ingredients.
Chicks huh?
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