Yawn

Why oh why did i wake at 0600 when I don't have to go to work today? I'm on leave, goddamit: I've been looking forward to a lie-in for WEEKS, and instead I've been laid out, gawping at the ceiling for half an hour.

I am not good at inactivity. This may seem an amusing contradiction to many of my friends and colleagues who have come to know and love my tendency to put things off until the last minute (see posts passim) but I'm never doing nothing. I'm just doing something I enjoy rather than things I find tedious, irrelevant and frankly, disagreeable.

What i can't do is waste time. Buses? Standing still, waiting, is a waste. I'll walk the stops. Sitting in a meeting room, small talking, until everyone arrives? Wasted time. I'm there on the dot, with papers to read if I've not managed to be last. And as for laying stationary, trying to figure out if the cracks on the roof of the bedroom are getting longer: sod that, I'm up, tea-toting and finding something to do.

But the painful truth is that there really is nothing on my list of things to do that I can crack on with at this time of the morning with out straying dangerously close to an ASBO. I'm also suffering from an excess of energy brought out by an early night and - quite possibly - having huffed the remnants of yesterday's creosote odessey when I walked past the kitchen. (For the record, I don't recall cleaning brushes with white spirit being so much fun - That's now my job). And this is despite an attack of my kappa-clad neighbours singing (SINGING) at 3am.

So here I am, tapping away at this post, which doesn't really say anything, and doesn't really serve any purpose. But it does mean that I've passed the last 10 minutes producing something rather than passively soaking up nonsensical TV dross. And in two hours time I can do something worthwhile. Like turn on the lawnmower and piss off the neighbours.