Inpursuitof

I love menial tasks. They’re not big and they’re not clever but they hold a special place with me. I noticed two thirds of the way through the washing up that, after spending the last 13 hours doing complex logistical equations over everything from business planning days to when would be better to call my mum, I was thinking about absolutely nothing but the fork and sponge in my hands. The seas had calmed, the stampede had stopped to refuel on the cud and all was right with the world.

The same goes for the good-old train journey into work. It used to take 25 minutes door-to-door, but it was 25 minutes of standing up between Ms Gum-chewer and Mr and Mrs Canoodling Couple, complete with 0 space for reading a newspaper and the risk of trampling if your mp3 meant you couldn’t hear the person behind whisper for you to move out of the way. Post-move there’s a serious extension to the amount of day it takes up but there’s a seat and enough time to read the news before catching a nap. It’s time well spent.

Mr Boris J wants to put mobiles on the tube. Good god man, no. Just no. You are stealing the fifteen minutes of uncontactable solace people have in the day. I’m sure there’s a human rights issue in there somewhere, if you look hard enough.

The little pockets of time where there is nothing else to do but exactly what you are doing should be seized, not scorned. They are your friends. Put them in a hankie and tuck them into the band of your hat, for they might just be your salvation.

1. The Batemans, for providing another of their superb evenings

2. A pound to Comic Relief

3. A lady who thought I was trying to steal from her coat, when in actual fact I was putting my phone in my pocket