When life gets in the way I find I have no time to sit and look at the simple things. Look at the patterns on the prayer mat, so intricately intertwined, after praying; the shadows cast over the garden by the trees, a temporary mark on the face of the world; the look of content concentration on my mother’s face as she watches me work.

Instead I speed-pray, folding up the patterns on the mat, carelessly crumbling them, wiping the mark off the face of the world with a quick swish of the curtains after twilight, and stride callously past my mother, avoiding her maternal gaze, pretending she is looking at something beyond me.

Working for a living has turned into living for work at the moment; everything else is sidelined, including living itself. I live, breathe and see work wherever I do. I seem to mentally plan lessons, think about department strategies whilst shopping for food, filling the car with petrol and showering. Dressing is coupled with a mental list of all the marking I have not done; eating married to the planning that needs to be done and sleeping conjoined painfully with the ghosts of the department’s past.

“Work-Life Balance”, a cliché we all know, but I seem to see no difference between work and life. Sadly for me, at the moment, work IS life, without it what would I do? Being invited out by friends has become an annoyance I could do without; who would do the planning if I went to your house? Dinner time is a chore that takes me away from the books; who needs food anyway? Every waking moment is spent thinking about and planning work-related strategies.

I don’t actually think I could life without work; it has become a blanket of protection for me, part of my psyche; I mean, when I came home from work, it would be weird to just sit on the sofa and spend time with family, watching TV, reading a book, spending longer on my prayer. It would feel strange. When I’m working I no longer think about what may or may not happen; what my parents may or may not say or do about my life no longer seems important; the dreams and hopes I’m giving up fade into the background when work pervades every pore of my existence.

Maybe I’m becoming far too institutionalised. Maybe I just like what I do. Or maybe I’m letting work get in the way of my life.

So in a bid to stop life getting in the way of my work, (or is that work getting in the way of my life?) I ask you this: “What do normal people do after work?”