Sitting on the sofa, iPad in hand typing this post, I am in two minds. My serious, professional, teacher head is telling me to get off my backside and make a start on the large bag of exercise books that I brought home at the end of last term. It was my intention to do a few every day over the past week and then have a nice relaxing work-free weekend. That didn’t quite go to plan. Life intervened. Coffee with friends, wine with friends, going to the cinema with friends (The King’s Speech; “bloody, bugger, bugger, shit… fuck… tits!”) and even coffee without friends but with The Guardian intervened. As did long spells of dozing on the sofa, twittering about the #ebacc (they are all so negative towards it?), channel hopping around all those second-rate film channels on Freesat (my favourite is Movies4Men 2+1 simply because it has managed to squeeze three numbers into its name), cleaning the flat, posting frivolous comments on Facebook, daydreaming, going to the gym (I made it down there three times this week; the first month where I have actually made the subscription worthwhile), going for a slow jog down the Thames and back along the canal (three times too!), reading random entries in William Fotheringham’s Cyclopedia (I tweeted him asking why Mark Beaumont didn’t get an entry and he has tweeted back saying he will try to include him in the second edition as well as get rid of the yellow words which are “not very popular”), catching up on the odd DVD that I have bought but not watched (The Hurt Locker although I still need to find time to watch La Classe), washing things that escape the weekly wash cycle during term time (don’t go there!), more daydreaming, playing the guitar (much better since I decided to grow my finger nails), having crêpes in John Lewis (that was a real discovery – just a shame about all the screaming kids), working out when I will be rich (current estimate still around five years in the future), watching endless hours of speculation and repeated reports on various news channels waiting for Colonel Gaddafi to retire to South America (I’ve got a horrid feeling he is going to hang around for a while yet), and worrying about the average number of exercise books that I need to mark per day to get through the entire bag before Monday morning. Currently about 45.
My lazy, “you don’t get paid to work in the holidays” head is telling me to refer back to the previous paragraph, choose an activity and continue as I am… Did I mention The Archers, or the Classic FM Chart Show or…
I am the King of procrastination.