Multi-tasking

Over the last year or two it has become a habit of mine not to plan too far ahead. Leaving aside for a moment the semantic difficulties suggested by having a habit that consists of not doing something, this activity (or lack of) has served me well as I strive towards mastering the Art of Slow.

But sometimes, just occasionally, there is an event on the horizon that forces me to temporarily dump the habit. One such example being the anticipation of the ritualistic Monday morning work question “Well, what did you get up to at the weekend then?”

This simple, innocent-sounding enquiry is a (wo)man trap for the unwary. Why? Well first off, if you haven’t been up to anything more exciting than painting your toenails and answer, truthfully, “nothing” you just sound like a sad sack. By contrast, if it’s happened to be one of those rare weekends where you have done lots of great stuff (climbed Kilimanjaro, say) then you risk coming over all superior and hoity toity. But primarily the question is a minefield because it obliges you to ask the questioner the same in response – and then to will yourself not to yawn more frequently than every ten minutes whilst they describe in minute wrist-slitting detail the progress of their new baby / dog / love life / pond creation project.

And so it was that I found myself on Sunday afternoon sitting at my desk anticipating my answer to this perennial question a day in advance whilst at the same time drinking tea, surfing the Internet, smoking and eating a Mr Kipling apple and blackcurrant pie. And Eureka! There was the answer, right in front of me. What had I done this weekend?

Multi-faffing.

It’s a bit like multi-tasking but without the prerequisite of any proper activity whatsoever. The ability to multi-task of course having in recent years become practically the definition of the difference between men and women.

[There are lots of other differences between men and women of course. Men are more likely to have hair on their chests and chins, to under-estimate journey times and to over-egg the importance to the national psyche of sports involving (usually inflatable) missiles. Women are more likely to pretend they don’t pick their noses or use the toilet, to identify their cars primarily by colour and to retain a selection of soft toys beyond puberty.]

And unlike multi-tasking itself, multi-faffing is a habit that can be enjoyed and un-actively participated in by both sexes. So it was with a glow of pride and acknowledgement of my own achievement today that I have discovered a new trait, struck a blow for gender equality and have a ready answer for my colleagues tomorrow morning. Back of the net, as Alan Partridge would say.