The Gaff with The Hammock

September 28, 2012

Sorry, sorry, sorry to both of you out there waiting with baited breath for the latest instalment of my exciting life. The truth is, once the Olympics and the Paralympics finished, I went into a sort of post-Olympic tristesse, only to be awakened a couple of weeks ago by a recruiter anxious, nay, desperate, to find me a job worthy of my talents.

Now I get calls, even at my age, a couple of times a week, trying to do just that, but once they find that the client really wants a 25 year old called Emma who goes riding in the country every weekend, they realise that an old Northerner called Alan really won’t do, and they go all silent.

So imagine my surprise, dear reader,when one of those calls actually results in something. At a reasonable rate, although admittedly out in the Heart of Berkshire (which is what Conrad wanted to call his novel until his publisher persuaded him that ‘Darkness’ had a better ring to it). This will involve that terrible thing called Commuting, but I shall stock up on mummy porn on my Kindle and the journeys should pass pleasantly enough, and I can claim the exorbitant rail fares back, so it means less tax to pay.

I have to say, ever since the dot-com days when every self-respecting office had table football, a basketball hoop and free fruit, one corporate necessity that seems to have passed everyone by, is the humble hammock.  It can’t just be me who needs a post-prandial snooze, even if that prandium (lunch for those of you like David Cameron who can’t translate simple Latin words) is a prawn baguette and a Muller light.

No, I really don’t understand why HR teams look askance on that. It needn’t get in the way, it’s no more intrusive than company showers and piles of towels in reception. I think it must be down to the rather dopey idea that people should be firing on all cylinders all through the day. Not only is this physiological hogwash, it amounts to cruel and unusual punishment. Many’s the office I’ve worked in where you could walk into the gents at around 2.30 pm and hear the gentle sound of snoring from behind a locked cubicle door.

Stand up for hammocks, I exhort you. Though don’t stand up in them, obviously. Health and safety…


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