<\/p>\n
Moons ago (maybe many, maybe few), working at home was a day spent concentrating on things that needed quiet time.<\/p>\n
Respectful introspection.<\/p>\n
Deep thought.<\/p>\n
No, not the computer off of Hitchiker’s Guide To The Galaxy.<\/p>\n
The other kind of deep thought.<\/p>\n
Working at home used to be a time of uninterrupted mental powerhousing, when I could sit down and read those annoyingly verbose documents, and get to grips with what the drafter actually meant.<\/p>\n
I used to be able to work at home and take it as an opportunity to get to grips with over 600 unread emails.<\/p>\n
Working at home used to give me, in a Supermanesque kind of way, my very own Fortress of Solitude, from where I could just get on with all the stuff that needed getting on with, and where I could do this in a completely uninterrupted manner.<\/p>\n
I wouldn’t mind the little Lync (now Skype for Business) application sitting there broadcasting away to my colleagues, because I worked safe in the knowledge that I was actually working.<\/p>\n
I was doing things.<\/p>\n
And getting on with stuff.<\/p>\n
Sadly those days seem to have vanished.<\/p>\n
I have been working at home today.<\/p>\n
And my Fortress of Solitude has been penetrated<\/p>\n
Repeatedly.<\/p>\n
I took my first and only break for a hot drink at 17.12.<\/p>\n
TWELVE MINUTES PAST FIVE!<\/p>\n
FIRST HOT DRINK!<\/p>\n
OF THE ENTIRE WORKING DAY!<\/p>\n
5.12pm!<\/p>\n
Don’t get me wrong, I love my job.<\/p>\n
But if I had been in the office, I would have had my first hot drink many hours earlier than TWELVE MINUTES PAST FIVE!<\/p>\n
Who do I write to, to complain about this?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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