The Great Office Survival Act during Industry Recession!

It was the year of the Great Industry Recession, and my office looked more like a Victorian tea parlour than a place of commerce.

Everywhere I turned, colleagues were perfecting the ancient art of appearing busy while doing absolutely nothing.

Davit from Engineering had mastered the furrowed‑brow routine over spreadsheets that hadn’t been touched since Easter.

Durref, our manager, strode briskly through the office clutching a folder of Pret receipts, as though he were single‑handedly saving the economy.

Mr. Pemberton of Finance sighed heavily and muttered “cash flow” at intervals, convincing everyone he was indispensable while doing less than a lamppost.

But I refused to join their ballet of idleness. I could not, in good conscience, be part of this grand masquerade of loafing.

While they coasted elegantly with tea and biscuits, I chose to stand apart.

Meetings that spiralled into Morris dancing metaphors were not my stage; I declined to pirouette in circles of nonsense.

The fellow people coasted. Tea brewed, biscuits dunked, minutes filed and forgotten.

I was determined to resist the temptation of elegant inertia.

Let others queue politely for nothing; I would rather break the queue entirely.

The French may strike, the Americans may hustle and the British may coast.