The perils of homeworking

I’ve begun to understand more fully what I am letting myself in for with this ‘homeworking’ malarkey. Last Thursday I was struck down with hideous snot inducing virus (yummmmm) and so decided to isolate myself and work at home to ensure the on-going health and wellbeing of my work colleagues. At first I could blame my slovenly ways on the illness. Pyjamas are mandatory when you are feeling under the weather and by not showering or getting dressed I could do the ultimate bed to computer transition and be from sleep mode to work mode in a matter of minutes. Score.

This is when the penny dropped. I could do this every day. There is no need for clothes anymore. No need for excess laundry. Who likes laundry anyway? And what about the environment? Do I really want to kill the pandas or do I want to save the planet and STAY IN MY PYJAMAS. I chose the pandas. I chose life. I chose my pyjamas.

By 2pm however I was presented with a problem.  I had to go outside, my food levels were at a dangerous low and the choice before me was this:

1.       Go to shops.

2.        Eat a tin of kidney beans for lunch.

The thought process that followed horrified me especially when I realised I was standing in my living room, debating with myself out loud about the necessity of a shower to go to the shops and if dark pyjamas could legitimately pass for jogging bottoms? Friends, it was a low point.

 I enquired on Twitter if this is the normal state of affairs for ‘homeworkers’. Apparently so. Nationwide there are people having conversations with their kettles, dressed in outfits with ‘sleepy time’ written on them at midday and doing all manner of inappropriate things at their work station. It was a frightening premonition of what is to come but for the good of the two minute bed to work hop I’m willing to take it on, just please don’t visit me at home in the daytime.