Friday Night Moan

It's Friday I'm still hanging on by my fingertips.  I keep telling myself that things are bound to get better, but they never do.  As ever, the dead weight constantly dragging me down is work.  I've never been a fan of work - like the Ancient Greeks, I believe that it is a disutility, a curse placed upon man by the Gods - but it is increasingly obvious that it has been decided at the highest levels that we should no longer be allowed to derive any pleasure or sense of satisfaction from our jobs.  These days everything is crudely reduced to a series of simplistic (though rarely logical) processes that have to be rigidly adhered to - initiative isn't just discouraged, it is forbidden.  But Hell, I've said all this before.  It should be clear to all of us now that nothing is likely to change in the foreseeable future.  So either I just have to endure it, or I have to summon the courage to do something radical, like jacking it all in and striking out on my own, or finding some other, less horrendous, work.

This time of year and weather don't help - I'm left feeling constantly tired by my daily battle against the elements, whilst the low light-levels and short days threaten to reactivate my depression.  This year, things haven't been helped by my inability to schedule any time off in November.  In the past I've found that taking a couple of days off in mid-November helps break up the monotony of the long run to Christmas, refreshing me for the last leg.  But this year work demands have made this impossible, meaning that, by the time I take my Christmas break, I'll have done a fifteen week stint without taking even a single half-day off.  So, not surprisingly, I'm looking forward to the week and a half I plan to take off over Christmas and New Year.  I would take the full fortnight, but I'm trying to conserve my remaining leave for a longer break some when next year.   Meanwhile, I'll just cling to the idea that I only have another four and half years to go before my mortgage is paid off...