Tuesday At Home

Bloody hell, I did fuck all, all day. Really. Nothing.

It was a gorgeous day, just made for doing fuck all.

Lovely.

I had everything done mid morning. Then I had lunch. Then I had time for a snooze on the couch. 

Why would I ever want to go back to the office?

I started early. I got all my work done. That's all that should matter? Surely?

That's why they want you back in the office, I hear you say. No, not really, same amount of work, same amount of supervision. Nobody checks up on me, generally, no. No one checks up on me in the office.

Why do they want us back in the office? Do you think the execs feel their power base slipping? You can't let the workers have what they want, there is no telling where that might lead? 

(It is the same reason why people mindlessly vote conservative year after year, they don't want anything to change, as there is fear involved with that)

Why they want you to go back to the office, you say? It is in your own words, you did nothing all day.

Did nothing for part of the day, after I had done all my work. No, that’s not the reason they want me back in the office. If I spend the afternoon doing nothing at home, I would have done nothing for the same period of time in the office. In my office, the back of my computer screen to my office door, looking at ladder back chairs in Paris, let me tell you. Or writing a story, hopefully. The only thing missing is the luxury of being able to lie on my own couch with my own laptop.