Shocked at my chameleonic prejudices. Nothing worse than a white board that never changes.
Cold, tired, distracted. Wonder if Inception affected my dreams.
Random music from my music library, most of which I have never heard and instantly want to delete.
The great pleasure of Saturday morning is the smoky sweetness of my 2nd pot of Oolong tea.
My God, where does the time go? And why is it so quiet on a Friday?
What do you do with people who are perpetually distracted, who can’t switch off? You tell me.
The replacement waitress was so much kinder than the usual one, presumably because she hadn’t been told the rules yet.
Friday treat: going to the hub and reading Bill Moggridge. Not together.
Remarkable when you’re doing the Pomodoro technique how many times you are interrupted in the course of a morning.
Meetings are the opposite of work, getting in the way, wasting people’s most productive hours vacillating between arguement and daydraming.
Back on the Pomodoro path. Doing it properly this time, noting interruptions etc.
The perfect human is a very close relation to the frustrated, self-improving human.
Is it worth going blind just in order to get a view of the outside world? No, no it isn’t.
Anecdotally it does seem to be the case that people with a sloppy appearance tend to produce sloppy work. But is it statistically so?
Woke up breatheless, both arms paralysed under the pillow, hope that I don’t have sleep apnoea.
Sludgy thoughts, muddy ideas, silt on top of which squawking seagulls float.
Used to keep wallet and notebook in my back pocket, now too sensitive. Strange.
It’s not the being unsocialble I mind, it’s the pressure to be sociable that’s the problem.
I don’t have a tattoo because I think too much about what my possible future self thinks about the decisions I make.
Incredibly humid in Glasgow today, even with the air con. Heavy breath, sniffling, the monkey in my brain i chattering away.