The drudgery begins
The long hours of servitude ahead lay heavy on my mind
I indulge in my restlessness
I follow my mind's desiring to the next trivial outpouring
I fidget and I roam
I rage and I moan
A caged animal, I can take it no longer
And descend to the kitchen to boil the kettle
I am busy with something else long before the timer goes off
I ponder the world from my window
I glance at green trees, the blue sky, through windows, and across building tops
I retreat as soon as I feel I have been there too long
I pick up my guitar and play the same few chords I always do
Progress
A memory of my phone springs up from the abyss
My hands follow instinctively
I scroll... productively
The sweet scent of flowers and late summer warmth drifts in through my open window
Nature calls
And I dutifully answer
I dash to the door for a jaunt in the sun
Some Vitamin D soaking will do the trick
Rebellious lyrics rage from my headphones as I stroll
I smile inwardly as I savour each precious step of freedom
Home again, and back at my computer
Should working be this hard?
Is this hard?
I wonder about the many intersections of my life
Past, present, future, then back again
I settle down soon after 3 when my energy starts to dwindle
I am in a race against time as I try to make up for the hours lost
Fuelled by adrenaline, I type incessantly at my keyboard as though my life depends on it
I work late, again
And make the vain proclamation that this will be the last time
Probably Covid, I reason to my subconscious self
Restrictions eased months ago
