McNaught

[desperance]

This is my thirtieth year in this job: in this exact same job, sitting at keyboard telling stories. You'll get no promotion this side of the ocean. But in all those days and months and years of working, I have - of course! - become expert in work-avoidance, in all those displacement activities that take me away from the keyboard, away from the job. There are those lies I tell myself - "I'll just go for a walk, half an hour, I can think about the next scene while I'm walking" - and the lies I tell other people, "No, I have to go into town to do this, I need the space/solitude/convenience/resources of the library/pub/whatever..." And then, every day, the things I don't even bother to lie about any more, "I'll just do the washing up/laundry/cooking/cat-cuddling first, before I go upstairs and get involved in LJ/e-mail/surfing, before I do any work..."

On the other hand, how many times have I said "I'm just going out to look at the comet, before I get back to work"?

Twice, by my count. In thirty years, that means it's still pretty fresh as an excuse.

The last time, I actually saw a comet. This time? Nah,: clear skies overhead, but a band of cloud on the horizon, sod it. Actually, that seems to be kinda common; wonder if there's a word for it?

So I came home, and look: here I am, almost working...

Comments

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I've come to the conclusion it's hiding. No sign of the blased thing, even though all the things that are meant to point to it were there...

'Zackly. Self-concealing comets: you come home fairly confident that someone out there has been lying to you, and then this morning apod posts this (http://syndicated.livejournal.com/apod/404949.html) and you realise that you should've been in Catalonia all along...