Work Avoidance

Well I've finished Shalimar the Clown (when I got into it, about the time of the Max Ophuls narrative, I couldn't put it down) and Under the Greenwood Tree (Hardy's sweetest novel - the only one where he allowed the woman to remain her happy, vain self) and I was up until five this morning transcribing (not my favourite job). And when I passed out, aching, from crouching over the laptop, there were still four pages left to go.

Instead, I woke up way past noon, had my breakfast, read the last bit of Under the Greenwood Tree (my favourite part is when the carollers shuffle into the tranter's cottage to have some cider) and got on the computer, read a few of my favourite blogs and listened to Zooey Deschanel sing "Baby it's Cold Outside" with Leon Redbone. I love how lazy her voice sounds - no, that's not the word, languorous, yes, that's it.

Beautiful, what's your hurry...

Now I've moved on to Laughter in the Rain.

Hmmmm....methinks I see a pattern here.

If I start reading Lysistrata right around now, it'll be clear.

Work avoidance.

Except I can't. I shouldn't. The damn thing is due tomorrow.

PS: I've just finished transcribing. Now I'm going to have to "clean up the copy", join the ideas, write reports for the presentations, and edit the panel discussions. I've realised that some people waffle just to hear the sound of their voices. They have nothing interesting to say and it kind of stands out when surrounded by articulate experts, they look like fools who can only stutter in some dismal form of broken English. (Am I being mean? I don't care. When I have to edit fools, my blood boils)