I woke up and and it took me around five minutes to come to “I am here”. I think the exercise is done. Originally the purpose was to get out of home as quickly as possible, and what I’ve seen is that it’s not all that important, it’s the squandering of time which I want to eliminate.

I think, when your work tool and your entertainment source are on the same device, it’s easy to lose track of when you’re working and when you’re entertaining yourself. If I lay in bed and watched one hour of TV every morning, it would be much more evident that it’s a waste of time.

Argh. I seem to have woken up in a swollen mood. Acceptance, everything is as it’s supposed to be. But if everything is accepted, what remains to be written about? Ah, the present moment. I will describe my work settings and my tasks as they are happening.

I consider writing work logs work, so I’m working now. But I don’t feel comfortable describing RenĂ©’s house. If it were my house I would, but it’s common sense privacy. I will describe my “office” instead:

I’m sitting on a surprisingly comfortable chair. It fools you because it looks very much like a mass produced 20 euro chair, but it turns out to be a famous designerly chair which I don’t remember the name. The seating and back of the chair are a single folded sheet of rubber-like plastic. Legs are metal, probably aluminium. I think the designer cleverness is that the metal frame should support the backrest, yet it’s absent (though surely running inside the thin rubber seating). To touch it seems it will be too hard to be comfortable, but once you sit down it very slightly yields to the shape of your body. It’s a man who looks unassuming and serious, yet turns out to be warm with refined manners when you speak to him. Should a burglar break in he’d surely miss one of the most valuable things in this house.

The desk/dining table is a large lightly colored wooden table with a metal frame, from IKEA. Space is generous, yet reduced by the amount of debris I’ve allowed to accumulate, in part because I’ll be here for such a short time that I haven’t bothered moving the things that were already on the table (a lamp, a speaker, some wooden saucers, books) plus my stuff (a folded saarong for the pool, the cover of my MacBook, the token of my bank, a drawing notebook).

I avoid this workplace like the plague, there’s nothing wrong with it, but just at this very moment I want to serve myself another coffee. I’ll just cave in and come back to write. I’m back. It doesn’t seem to happen when writing work logs, but when you are programming or designing, this simple act will take you out of your state of flow. It’s an interruption that will take you 10-15 minutes to recover from.

9AM already! I should better get moving.