Bloody Johnson

It's very simple. The amount of work we do at work is dependent upon the amount of work arriving in at work for us to work on. At the moment, we're not getting much work at work, which means that we fill the time in at work by not doing much work. Or, to put it another way, we spend our time at work mostly sitting around and surfing the internet, in a productive manner, obviously. Key duties to filling this important task include: staring off into space, swivelling chairs around, lowering the self-same chairs down and raising them up, and banging hands noisily upon keyboards when people walk by.

Lately, though, I must confess that I've been taking part in completely trivial and frivolous activities. Like a beast, I've been wasting my time at work in reading books by Samuel Johnson and Henry Fielding online. I've started with the collected essays of Johnson, and then, like a slob, I've turned to the ultimate degradation: the collected plays of Fielding.

It's terrible, I know. I'm almost too ashamed to admit to it.