It’s been a week since I last posted. After years writing almost every day, it seems strange – standing at the edge of the blog – rummaging around in my mental bag, looking for some words to contribute. It almost feels like the blog has become this place or person that I’ve had an awkward falling out with, and now I’m not quite sure how to start a conversation.
Perhaps ignoring the atmosphere is the best solution. Ignore the blog while it stares at me tiptoeing around the edge of the room, with “where the f*ck have you been?” written all over its face.
Where have I been?
I was furloughed through the first half of this week. If you’re not entirely sure what that means, it’s pretty straightforward – if you are furloughed, the company you work for forces you to take unpaid leave. Happily, the UK government is paying a large proportion of my salary during the days I am furloughed – a safety net of sorts that has been operating throughout the pandemic. There are strict rules while you are “furloughed” – you cannot work on any paid project work for your employer – but you can undertake “professional development” – training courses, and so on.
Instead of spending the furlough days this week hitting the textbooks, I replaced the roof on our shed. Go me. I thought I might also write some more thoughtful words over at Medium, but that didn’t happen. I’m not sure why. I didn’t go running either – I’m still waiting for my knee to heal properly. It’s been a dispiriting kind of week really.
Anyway. It’s Friday, it’s raining, I’m drinking my second coffee of the day, and some cafe jazz playlist is quietly burbling away in the background. I should probably get on with some work.