Distracted

If my boss had any idea how unproductive I have become, he'd fire my ass.

A year ago I could still think coherent thoughts in a linear fashion about how my job fits into the larger picture in my company. I could see where things needed to be expanded and improved. I could contemplate what my next career step might be. I could collaborate in useful and interesting ways with colleagues from other locations. I could contribute ideas worth listening to.

That was a year ago.

And today?

Today I can sneak in an hour-long phone call to my newly-retained attorney while she explains to me how to file for divorce. I can look up interesting books on the Internet, or research high schools that might be good for my boys once they are old enough for high school. Occasionally -- too rarely -- I can even post to my blog. And I can write to D, think about D, miss D, spend long hours fantasizing about fucking D's brains out over and over.

But my actual work? Like, ... the stuff they pay me for? The quality of my work sucks, and I am months behind on some of it. Fortunately nobody has really caught on yet; or when they do notice, they blame it on the bad economy: "Oh, poor Hosea. The company had to downsize and now look at how much work he has ... you can tell he must have a lot because he is so far behind." People shake their heads and cluck their tongues sympathetically. And they don't seem to realize that -- mentally -- I'm not even there.

If I were told tomorrow that I was being demoted to emptying the trash cans, my big worries would be about the salary and the loss of privacy. It would mean I'd have to put in eight hours of work every day for my paycheck, which would seriously cut into my time for web-browsing, letter-writing, and sexual fantasizing. Only later would I realize that I ought to have been worried about things like a career track.

Just pathetic.

I sure hope none of you is actually my boss in disguise ....