Monday, February 25, 2013

A wash-out

As I left the office today, the skies were already darkening; by the end of our ten minute walk back home, it was almost black outside, the corridor by the lift plunged into darkness.  And then - nothing.  Singapore's weather was teasing us by putting huge clouds across the sky, and then not actually bothering to rain.

I might be accused of insensitivity from time to time, but I'm very sensitive to changes in the weather. Like some people have a trick knee that tells them when it will be stormy, I've got a trick brain that shuts down half an hour before any major rainfall, leaving me rocking gently backwards and forwards and groaning with pain and angry, shortly before the downpour. And so it was today: I was grumpy for no apparent reason, and even though I recognised this and tried to be polite and kind, it was a struggle for me to sit calmly next to my wife and try to plan a holiday, rather than charge around the flat like a bull with toothache, lowing mournfully and butting my head against the furniture.

And thence, the rain. My wife was overjoyed by the precipitation: I was annoyed, as I'd failed to go out for a run this morning (feet too sore after yesterday's exertion) and knew that I had to go out after the rain had stopped. Or while it was still raining. I fiddled and faddled with various computers in the house, seeking distraction from honest exercise, and finally did a kilometre when it was only drizzling outside. That doesn't sound like much, but I was partaking in the novel extreme sport that is Trying Not To Fall Arse Over Tit In Front Of Strangers, a pastime readily available in Singapore.

Today, thus, might have been a day where the best I achieved was to not fall over in the street, and to bang away on the keyboard of my computer. But it was also a day where I managed to do something faintly resembling cleverness with a computer at the office, while sat on my sofa at home in my pants. I do like remote access to computers. If only all my working time could be spent on the sofa, only wearing pants, then I think I would be full of good cheer. No long commute (how arduous a ten minute walk becomes, how lazy perhaps am I). Easy access to cheese on toast. No need to dress up in order to talk to my colleagues (although I'd have to take care with videoconferencing to only appear from the neck up). Yes, working from home would be an eternity of happiness for me.

At least until half an hour before it began to rain.


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