The plan was a bracing walk to oxygenate my sluggish weekend brain cells, then an hour or so at the computer to finish the writing in time for the deadline.
I'm not the sitsy-downsy type but I do know how to concentrate, so once I'm on the chair I'm there for hours.
However, as soon as I put my foot over the threshold a large blob of rain landed on the doorstep, so the computery bit of the day happened earlier than I'd anticipated. There is still a lot to be done but I'm having a Mahalia Jackson break and listening to a wonderful voice that doesn't even sound like a voice sometimes, and realising just what Elvis Presley's producers stole from gospel backing vocals: that clipped open/shut style of open-throated singing from groups of guys clustered round a microphone singing as one so a big block of tight, thick harmony surrounds the lead vocalist.
It looks as though the rain as set in for the day, which means that the list of rather glum instructions I made two days ago should shorten considerably. Most of the things on the list are those 'nuisance' tasks that involve searching for passwords and multiple keystrokes before further rummaging in files; either that or awkward emails that need to be worded exactly right and can't be dashed off in a flurry of enthusiastic typos.
You may have guessed by the number of postings about practically nothing that I've written this week, that the postings themselves are an elaborate prevarication exercise.
Maybe I should create a new slogan to reflect this.