So I have an essay to do. This is not terribly surprising; I'm an English student, we have two or three a term. I've known about this one for a good few weeks now. What's more though, two and a half weeks after I hand this one in, there's another due. And so it goes. Ho-hum. I've decided it'll be on the plays of Samuel Beckett, the vast majority of which I haven't read and don't particularly enjoy, but that isn't really the reason why I still have a word count of one ("Beckett", if you were wondering). No, that's because I am God's gift to procrastination and shiftlessness. I truly excel at it. Procrastination and shiftlessness must have been rubbing their faces with glee when they saw God plonk me down in the garden, or whatever they have. I lack a work ethic. This can clearly be seen by the fact that at this moment I am writing the post you see before you, rather than noting parallels between Beckett and the works of other mid-century Parisian existentialists. Truth be told, I don't even know if Beckett can be considered a mid-century Parisian existentialist, though I am certain that he lived in Paris and was a bit moody. If more proof is required, observe these acts that I have chosen to perform today in lieu of productive labour. - I have watched three episodes of 'The West Wing'.
- I have lit a coal-fire, and kept it lit.
- I have downloaded and read the bulk of a Frank Miller comic series.
- I have watched an episode of 'The Simpsons' and a good proportion of the AFI's '100 Years, 100 songs', which was hosted by John Travolta.
- I have shopped online for a Birthday present for my mum, in vain.
A not overly productive day. This lack of product I largely attribute to the lack of a stern authority figure standing over me and keeping me informed as to the right and wrong things to be doing (the wrong things generally including not working, and the right things generally including working). Such a figure was provided for me throughout my adolescent schooling, they just kick my crutch away and expect me to cope? With the Information Age just around the corner, telecommuting, workers sitting at home with a laptop, will inevitably become the norm. What hope then for the nation's productivity? The only solution is for a webcam to be attached to the top of everyone's screen and a scary looking man to watch over a bank of monitors for signs of slacking in the workforce. I would pay good money for such a service. Nine days of Essay to go. Olly Chadwick
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