I can't do the splits

Right now I'm sitting in bed, farting around on my laptop, banging out an e-mail to Nat... just feeling wholly relaxed really. It's about a quarter past six in the evening and I've also just finished watching About a Boy, after meaning to for months (the book is definitely in my top 10 all time favourite novels list). What's really pissing me off though is that in 40 minutes I'm going to have to drag my comfortable arse out of bed, get back into a shirt and tie and go back to work. Why? Because for 4 out of 5 working days I have to work split shifts... the bane of my existence.

Anyone who has worked splits will understand the sheer amount of time management skill you require to get anything out of your day. They're driving me completely nuts at the moment. I would much rather be finishing work now knowing that I have the rest of the evening off, rather than to finish after lunch knowing that I have to go back to the grind at 7 and working through till around midnight. It's a completely fucking depressing thought.

Well Chris and Damien should be heading over to London shortly, which will probably result in me moving back to the city after that. Hopefully to something more intellectually stimulating that what I do currently. And something with humane working hours. It's not the number of hours that I work, which happens to be quite a few actually, that pisses me off. I'm not afraid of long hours at all (fuck, I do them for free at the moment). Oh no, it's the pants distribution of them that grates me.

Anyways. Enough griping.