The Guilt

I am in the middle of a short burst of time wasting. I'm not doing very well at it. There is the world of the web hanging off my browser window.

But I have The Guilt.

I am extremely bad at doing bugger all. I get a funny tingling, sick sensation in my arms when I'm not immersed in work when I'm sat at my desk. Only if I have another task to distract me (buying a laptop; buying train tickets; looking for a new career) then I can possibly swing my mind around to a different way of thinking.

It comes largely from being self employed I believe (although it always has been there, like a heart murmur, beneath the surface, flickering away and was quite prominent during my degree. Okay, I've always been like this). Being self employed there is a temptation to get up late, go for coffee with friends, embrace eBay. But I went the opposite way. I became a mild workaholic.

Because I have The Fear.

I am terrified that if I don't work then I am a bad person. Its not simply if I don't work, its if I don't work hard and if I don't produce good results.

I know this philosophy is cack-handed. I know that if you allow yourself to relax you inevitably produce better results in your time of productivity. Your body and mind need down time. You need to rejuvenate, to reflect, to relax.

This is something I have never grasped. Even on my lunchbreak I feel guilty for reading the news. Weekends, only revealed to me once I had left education, and then only for a brief time before I became an academic and then a freelancer, are an open wound of worry and guilt. As a freelancer I regularly worked 10 to 12 hour days and throughout the weekend, terrified that if I stopped, took a break, took a breath, then I'd become behind and let clients down.

I am, you will be pleased to know that I recognise, an idiot. I am aware of my unjustified, slightly disturbing work ethic. I have also realised, through hours of dedicated, heart and soul work, you always disappoint clients. Because you cannot interpret the fact that the ramblings in their emails are not, in fact, what they mean at all. They are disappointed that telepathy is not a prerequisite of being a web designer (unlike an unhealthy Lego addiction).

Although I have realised this harsh truth, applying it is somewhat a different matter altogether. To combat my time wasting this morning, I have, in fact, been productive. I have written up not only my timesheet but my junior's as well (I can't bring myself to call them my minion now they are actually flesh and blood and being really quite lovely and useful, although they have made me several cups of tea). I have emailed, made phone calls, done some creative filing.

I am still feeling guilty. I seriously suck at wasting time.