Article: Too Many Interruptions

Even though I'm home and do not have co-workers, I can really relate to the article from the UK's Guardian cited below. If it's not the dog trying to go out, he's trying to come in. Or I have to remember to give him his pill. Or I gave him his pill, only to discover it a half hour later on the floor somewhere because somehow he secreted it away in his jowls and then shook it free when I wasn't looking (You think I'm joking. I'm not. He's a hound. They do that all the time).

I go back to work, trying to remember where I left off... But then the neighbor shows up at the door wanting to know if I have taken up art again and are those big stacks of things in the front yard easels? No, I tell her, they are shingles. The white stack under the canopy were the wrong ones, delivered two weeks ago. The grey ones in the middle of the yard are the ones they delivered on Tuesday instead of when they were supposed to come -- Wednesday -- and consequently no one was around to move the cars so they could take the ones under the canopy away and put the new ones in their place. Thus they left them in the yard. Which means, since shingles can't be in the sun, that they have to be shielded by a makeshift structure of old window screens, sheets and boards made by moi. Except when the afternoon storms come, in which case the structure must be taken down and the stack wrapped in a tarp and tied with rope. And oh... now it's time for another pill...

On the other hand, I also have to admit that I, too, am guilty of interrupting myself at LEAST 50% of the time...

Leave me alone . . .
The average worker spends two hours a day answering phonecalls, emails and pointless questions about who ate the last Hobnob. We asked Tim Dowling to write about it - then kept interrupting him... LINK

Karen