So this week I am office sitting. I am getting paid to sit in a posh office on my own for 7 days while the team – whom I’ve never met – go to Italy. I am getting paid to sit and twiddle. It’s Day 4 and so far my biggest undertaking has been waiting at the door to give a man in a cap a box. I didn’t even have to squiggle my name on a weird calculator-gun type thing. I think boredom crept in like rigamortis on the second hour of the first day and so I my state since then has surpassed to something resembling a coma, or Charlie Sheen at a Bridge tournament. Thankfully there is a Nespresso machine so that is keeping me from shutting down completely and I eeenie-meenie-miney-mo my way through the various capsules, mostly picking purple because that’s my favourite colour. I swore I would make this week count, creatively speaking, but I seem to have had my finger on Instagram more times than Kim Kardashian and it’s taken me four whole days to even open up Microsoft Word, let alone spend a day choosing a font and deciding if I want the heading in bold or not. I thought to myself, now now Sophie, come on, no excuses – someone is basically paying you to write (in a very roundabout way), I mean seven whole, nine hour days  in front of a computer, you could actually write a book in this time, a comedy series, something, anything! As per usual I will probably get a flurry of inspiration and energy in the last hour of the last day then kick and spit about the fact I procrastinated for 63 hours back to back, a record in anyone’s book.