I try my best, I really do. I'm pretty conscientious. I'm a swat, a geek, a nerd. I'm not naughty, I wish I were but even me, little old nerdy-brain me has Concentration Deficit Order from time to time. Make that all the time.
The problem with writing features I find is that the very thing I have to write on, type on, is the thing that is the 'everything machine'. I'm always just one blue 'e' icon from opening the eyes to the world; indulge in some retail therapy, one small click away from some terribly non-work related un-intellectual research of my own. Research that won't enrich my life, won't add to the feature I should be working on and most definitely won't earn me any hard cash.
How easy it must have been in the days of the type writer. Just tappety tap tap and voila a feature for you dear Editor. Or better still, for a stationary junkie like myself, when writers wrote, not typed. When they could justify pen purchases, pencil cases, glorious fountain pens making that thrilling noise as you write, cartridge packs, fresh smelling notebooks, files of all colours that you can sort by subject - ooooo. Sorry I'm dribbling now.
But instead of the glamour of the type writer where I'd sit all 70s sexy-secretary in my pencil skirt, and instead of scribing on my beautiful paper in it's leather-bound book, I get this taunting temptress of a computer which has no sympathy for word counts and deadlines, just pop-up emails and tempting icons. What's worse is working from home there's no cheap-suited boss telling me to get a wriggle on, no visible others working so much quicker showing me up as the ASOS-addict I am.
There's no water-cooler nor the gossip that goes with. Just my hunk of a machine and me with my wandering eye. Come back those chunky BBC computers of my childhood - all is forgiven. I think I may just be able to suppress my desire for yet another game of space invaders and get on with this darn 1200 word ramble.
Right I'm off to work, honest. But not before I've....