The Dog ate my Home Work

OK, so we’re working from home at the moment and we thought it was going to a riot. Well, at least better than the daily misery we’re used to...

● Two words: Dial. Up. The Internet broadband revolution seems like a half-remembered dream.

● Being woken by the postman at 11.30am. The man’s got a bl**dy nerve.

● Absent-mindedly shovelling pickled onions, crab sticks, sausage rolls, wedges of cheddar and a jar of pesto into your face only to come round three hours later covered in mashed olives and flaky pastry.

● Being forced to watch cr*ppy day time TV soaps and charitably endure the acting efforts of imbeciles. Well, maybe not “forced” forced.

● No canteen - Beans on toast and half a Twix found in the sofa just don't cut it.

● The people you live with having no respect for your schedule, your workspace, or your love for cr*ppy day time TV soaps.

● Not getting the same sugar rush when you read Popbitch / Holy Moly / endless blogs / google news / p*rn in your own home.

● There’s no pre-work, after work or lunchtime rush at the gym. Bargain off-peak prices. Damn.

● My workstation - it is covered in crumbs and splashy tea! My screen - It is blue with an error message! Cleaners? IT Support? Hello? I take it all back, I take it all baaaaaack....!