Until a few months ago, I didn’t have the kind of job where working from home was an option. When it was, I decided that I’d rather carry on going going into the office. It’s not far away; without a commute to complicate things it seemed logical to keep work there and have home free for the rest of life.
This week, just as for millions of other people, that’s gone out of the window. Currently there are three of us working from home – from tomorrow, four. In some ways this is great: I have onsite IT support four feet away from me, in exchange for occasional cups of tea. Dress code doesn’t have to aim higher than ‘suitable for fleeing a burning building’. The cats are enjoying making us open doors for them every half an hour.
In others, not so much. It’s not a very big house, for a start, and when we are all milling around getting in each others’ way cabin fever will set in fast. No one knows how long it might be for. So far we are all well and fed and the lights are on, but it’s easy to see that just now we don’t have much power to keep things that way. We depend on luck, and each other.