5.47pm

It's 5.47pm and I'm a dead weight at my desk. My body has morphed into the chair, we are one and aren't gonna give each other up easily. I sigh and flick off my monitor and desk lamp for the night. The week is passing through me, wave after wave smashing over my head, the tail end of one of which I'm lingering on. It's chock-full of adrenilin and is powering me forward. All thoughts of my personal life are surpressed beneath organisation's poor cousins - Urgency and Productivity. The dryness in my eyes reminds me that I haven't slept well, and I blink and rub my eyelids with a floppy hand. Eventually the chair and I part. It's acrimonious but we've been so close these past few days that I can see the ties between us. Some distance will do us good though. Ten minutes in front of the mirror and I'm transformed. I wipe the day's grime off my forehead with a tissue and reapply much-needed colour onto a pasty face. A stranger smiles back at me. It's gonna be a good night.