JCB. For us Brits, it's not a brand name but a word. "JCB" means "digger". If you want a glimpse into the place they hold in the mind of the British Bloke, take a listen to the annoyingly catchy JCB song from a few years ago. They make all sorts of other really cool machinery besides diggers, but their diggers define them. If you are ever given the keys to a JCB then make sure you give it a try as the sheer destructive force you wield at the controls of such a machine can I'm slightly ashamed to say, be a bit of a rush.
I'm sitting at home on my sofa today because of a JCB. Same as yesterday. Someone's used one a little too enthusiastically and dug up the cable that keeps the office I work in connected to the world, so deprived of Internet and phones my colleagues and I are left at home.
I should be really pleased about this, but I'm not. I can dress as I like, keep the hours I choose and work as I want. And there's the problem. I've always disliked working from home because I find it much more difficult to stay on-message and get stuff done. The resulting guilt even when I have managed to achieve something, coupled with the lack of contact with other people, affects my mood and threatens to let in the girl fog.
Suddenly, I wish my job involved destroying something with a JCB. Digging holes. Or driving a JCB Fastrac like the one that dumped a great heap of manure in the field next to the office a week ago. Anything to get outdoors and away from a PC for a while!
And here we are. It's ten to nine, I'd better watch out or this will be distracting me from work.