Driving the desk to apathy

Sitting at a desk can be pretty shit. Shit in many ways. You’re not getting any exercise, so those excess pounds you put on over Christmas – three quarters of a year ago – aren’t going anywhere. You’re probably bored out of your mind doing something you’re not that keen on, unless you’re very lucky. That twinge in your hand seems to be getting worse doesn’t it? Perhaps it’s repetitive strain. They don’t have that many years of research to find out the effects of your lifestyle after all. Who knows what years of typing and playing on games consoles do to your joints? Oh god, and you were an early adopter of force-feedback controllers too. That twinge is getting even worse now just thinking about it. 

Why not think of something else? Even if you’re not at a desk and you’re coming to the end of the summer in your job working outside, or traipsing hospital corridors, or driving a bus. Looking forward to something is pretty important. 

Looking back can be great but it’s normally spiked with melancholy that you’re not there anymore. Ah, that holiday in the sun... that gig a few months ago. Still can’t believe the price of the beer. Damn, why are you sitting there and not in a concert hall, slowly developing tinnitus that’ll take two days to fully go? Actually, now you think about it has it even fully gone now? Damn this desk. 

What is there to look forward to? Well there’s always the obligatory Christmas and birthdays. I still reckon that Christmas was invented to make people a bit cheerier while the ice forms on the inside of the windows and you’ve had to pawn the last of your bed linen to pay for coal. Birthdays aren’t as exciting without pass-the-parcel. 

What’s better than waiting for events that are forced on you or you’re invited to is arranging your own. Last weekend we went to a friend’s birthday-slash-housewarming party, it was great fun. 

Hallowe’en’s on the way. Get a party organised, and dress up. Bonfire night too or what about a late summer barbecue? I bet it’s been ages since you organised a pub night out. The kids’ grandparents are always saying they wish they could see them more, so kill two birds with one piece of irresponsible parenting and family exploitation. Fill some of the gaps in your calendar. Organise a do and give yourself something to look smile about while the minute hand seems to be stuck on ten to five. That little twinge seems to be getting better.