A quote from Bart Simpson up there in the header.
The holiday season is over. For some six weeks I’ve been able to get to work in 20 minutes but now it’s all come to an end. I will remember those halcyon days of August, where it was just me, a couple of BMWs and a handful of white vans, with a nostalgic glow.
Now it’s all 4X4s, SUVs, buses and children throwing themselves under the wheels of my car in a desperate attempt to put off the inevitability of maths and P.E (P.E. Even now that acronym sends shivers down my spine).
Never mind. What lies at the end of the drive in the morning doesn’t change whether it takes twenty minutes or an hour and a half.
Some weeks ago I reported on the fatberg that had evolved within the sewers outside our office. And guess what. They are still ‘fixing’ it. I use that term loosely; we often stare out the office windows watching the ‘fixers’ sitting in their van drinking tea and reading The Sun.
Sometimes they all stand round watching one team member shoving a bit of gravel around with a spade. Their productivity both sucks and blows, which, as Bart Simpson pointed out, should be a physical impossibility. And of course my productivity suffers while I stand there doing nothing, watching them doing nothing. It’s all very Kafkaesque (no I don’t really know what I mean by that, and no I don’t give a monkey’s either).
But, at the end of the day, I get to go home – to the wife, a nice glass of wine and an endless landscape of culinary possibilities (oh, and the bloody X trainer too; I’ve finally given in to the notion that losing weight is easier if you move around a bit).