I have not left the house for days now. I have essays to write. It isn’t that I just have such an unbearable amount of work that there just isn’t enough time in the day. Quite clearly there is – my degree probably is no harder than anyone else’s, and it would be unrealistic of the university to expect one to spend all day working. It is just that little pangs of guilt choke my brain every time I do something which many would consider ‘fun’.
Instead I stay in, and fill the day with tasks such as drinking the amount of water recommended by nutritionists to keep one’s brain active. It doesn’t help in this respect, but it does make you go to the toilet more, which is a nice excuse to stop working for a bit. Maybe get bit of cake, and a glass of water? It will make me work harder. Maybe I should just cut the crap and have lunch. Even though I have already had one. Mmm, maybe some hummus would go well? Why use pre made when you can make your own, it will only take 20 minutes?
Going to the library may appear to remove such distractions, but it doesn’t really. 'I ought to brush up on my current affairs', I think. So after reading the paper cover to cover, including that scary bit in the middle where Carol Smiley is sitting on the bonnet of a car with a fan of money, trying to offer you a loan. Carol, I don’t want your clean and alluring fan of cash – I have an excellent credit rating. By this time it is 11 o’clock. Wow, aren’t I a good little worker, I have been in the library all morning, so I deserve a coffee break I am sure. Finding someone to go with is hardly a struggle – by the time you are in third year a quick walk around the library is bound to provide someone you know, who will be in the same situation. The day continues in such a fashion until about 4, when I will do about an hour’s work, then it is time to go home.
Still, this isn’t as bad as when you have nothing to do at all. You would have thought that when one is unemployed there would be an infinite amount of time to indulge in endless hobbies, never mind easily complete day to day administrative tasks. But for some reason, tasks seem to expand to fill the time one has to do them. Writing a letter, which is something working people don’t have trouble doing, can take a week if you are unemployed. Monday will be the writing of the letter. Tuesday will be taken up with summoning of the energy to put the letter in the envelope, and copy out the address. Wednesday will mostly be consumed with getting around to going to a post office to buy a stamp. Thursday will see the stamp attached to the envelope, and the letter will be put in the hall ready for posting. Friday will mark the trip to the post box, where the letter will be posted. It will probably get lost in the post, though.
This is human nature; to do the least possible to gain the greatest reward. Some people are not like this - Simon Cowel, Chris Evans, Stephen Fry spring to mind, who just seem to keep on working regardless of if they need the money or not. Woody Allan is another one - why must he keep on making films where he (or his protege) is irresistible to the charms of a series of teenage girls? Surely he can't enjoy it that much? Once you do anything often enough and impose deadlines it starts to feel like work. I don't think I would get my film made, after I had read the paper, drunk five glasses of water, made some pesto and checked Facebook a few times it would be time to go home.
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