I came in to the office to work, but little work is being done. My mind's flitting about, my attention unspanned. So much to do and so little focus. Only three of the six jobs have been crossed off the list.

Instead, I've mucked around with this template. I've cleaned my desk. I've unsubbed to emails I no longer read. I've surfed for solutions for managing the tangle of wires in my flat. I've read the Sunday papers online. Even daydreamed a bit.

There was a lot I meant to do this weekend, but blame cheap wine and an Italian for kicking it off in an spectacularly unproductive manner.

Time to go home. I've procrastinated as much as I could.