The obsession with my finishing my book on workplace bullying has shrunk my world to the path between two desks; work and home. Now I’m feeling it. The effort of sitting on an office chair staring at a screen for 12/13 hours a day is taking its toll. My back’s killing me to the point I can’t go to the gym. My wrists and thumbs pulse. By 3 o’clock I get PC claustrophobia. I can't stop wriggling in my chair. By the time I turn my computer off in the evening, the eye-strain enduced headache causes genuine tears.
A good example is yesterday when, late afternoon, I had to move because bits of me had gone numb. Walking like Ken Dodd, I made it to an absent fee-earner’s room and stretched. Holding onto the shelves I bent forward; spine creaking in protest. It was then I saw his stack of ELA Magazines. Flicking through them, I noted one or two featured the subject of bullying. After a quick sort, I hobbled back to my desk with 9 magazines to read at lunch today.
My mum is organising an intervention. She’s planning a bus trip to the countryside on the weekend. She’s worried if she doesn't, when she reads it, my book will have shades of Stephen King’s The Shining. Each page will read,
“All work and no play makes BBTB a dull girl.”
It’ll do me good to get a break; some fresh air and a stretch, but she doesn’t have to worry. I am obsessed, but only because I’m close to finishing. And the thought of finishing –
It makes me shine.