The Airportline: Observations

So I spent seven hours starring at my work today. Then I began writing something not remotely related, or it was very related to not working, but very little related to the work I was suppose to be doing. Anyway, here is a section from that writing which I translated just for you my dear readers:

From Very Good At Not Working
I’ve seen the hours walk past me all day and there is no sign of them stopping. Just because I am sitting in front of my document it doesn't mean that the world is waiting for me to get started. The world never waits. The black dash at the top of the empty white sheet is blinking, yelling to me to write something. I have my instructions lined up here next to me. All I need to do is to deliver, to cross out, to move on. But today it is not possible, its one of those days. Its one of those days when you blame the day even though you know it's you. It is me that is not working; the day has nothing to do with it. My eyes are burning from the screen, or is it from lack of sleep, or boredom? My eyes never help me when I need them. I look at my screen each day, for several hours, maybe it’s my eyes protest, just when I need them they refuse, say no, take a stand. You realize that I want to blame everything except for myself. I want to renounce my personal responsibility for my lack of moral. Maybe I can blame contemporary society’s computerification. But probably not.

And while you indulge in this I will give a training session to some floorballers here in Amsterdam.