job – swans

I notice I’m hardly reading just now. And it’s irritating me. Time just seems to be escaping through my fingers like Nadine Dorries trying to catch piss and hold onto her job at the same time.
Alvin Toffler said in ‘Future shock’ that our perception of time speeds up as we get older, but this is the first time I’ve experienced this as a pain in the arse.
There just don’t seem to be enough hours in the day any more. I get up early, I stay up late and it still feels like I get nothing accomplished.
This fucking job – fun though it is – is swallowing far too much of my time. Yeah, the money’s great, but now that there’s to be no more record shops here, do I really need that much money? And anyway, amazon must be about to offer a deal whereby nazi thugs turn up at your door, plant a burning cross in your lawn and scream a list of suggestions based on previous purchases while throwing hitler salutes.
Which’ll make a nice change, really.


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