New work clothes!
The message feels appropriate for where my head is at.
I’ve spent 15 of my 22.5hrs WFH so far this week, in meetings.
For the majority of that time I’ve also made futile attempts to stop the squatters’ minds from going to mush, and prevent the dog-cat from eating the doofer, or anything else that isn’t at least 6ft off the ground, including [but not exclusively] pens, fire wood, bobble hat and cookie cutters.
None of them have paid much attention to the message on my very professional new office wear, so now I’m hiding in the bathroom for peace.
I have dye on my hair and a toilet roll wrapper on my head, because I’m too scared of my family talking to me or crossing my path with anything other than a squeaky, to go back downstairs for clingfilm.
Winter lockdown is very different to a sunny spring/summer in captivity, eh?!