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| The view from the throne. Thames in the distance |
Day 217
Es regnet. Luckily, not for long, thought the streets were wet, my gears playing up, and the cycle ride hardly a barrel of laughs. A slow work day, sitting on my arse at a desk. Not much time for stretching or morning yoga, as I had to spend the early morning putting the finishing touches to a review due in before 9am.
Mental and financial health benefits from gainful employ for the next couple of weeks, but having a job in an office does nothing for the training. I've been here since 27 October and have not exactly been inundated with work. It is a weird business, this lull in the schedule I am currently experiencing. I'm sitting at a desk, feeling under employed, but knowing I can claim my daily rate. It's guilt inducing, when you remind yourself of the minimum wage and the zero-hours contracts endured by the unskilled. My contract is zero-hours, in that when I'm not booked, I can go weeks without earning a bean. Of course, sitting here like a pudding, fretting about work will not help my fitness. While everything is quiet, I should get moving. There are 120 stairs I could climb to train for this. Running down to street level and up to my desk again takes only 3 or 4 minutes. I could do that 8 times and noone would notice my absence. In between, I could go to my customary stretching place, the spacious disabled loo, pictured (the window view at least) above. It is horrifyingh ow easy it is to sit and surf the web for hours on end instead. Fortunately, the gluts and hip flexors protest after an hour or so's confinement to a chair, so although I don't put in the activity that I could and should, I do at least get moving, about once an hour.
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