On Working From Home

Pros

No commute - saving so much time and money 

Cons 

My back hurts 

I only have one (small) screen

Remote desktops are weird and awkward 

Too many snacks are on hand

So. You working from home? Listen, I'm grateful that I have a job that I can (kind of) do from home. I'm not on furlough, I haven't been fired, I don't have to commute... I'm one of the very lucky ones but, man, my back fucking hurts. I live in a tiny flat and the designation between "fun" part of the flat and "work" part of the flat is naturally very small. And did I mention that my back hurts?

I'm still enjoying the fact that I can listen to the radio all day but that brings its own set of woes. Every hour, on the hour, I hear some terribly depressing news and that's a lot for my poor brain. I'm up the wazoo with anxiety. Jesus. 

Also, my manager rings me at least once a day! And in a way that's nice because I'm hearing a human being speak but also that just keeps me on the edge, yo. 

Man, all of this is too much, innit? 

I hope you're able to keep yourselves safe and well and not coughing or worrying about people coughing on you. I went to Tesco earlier and let me tell you now: people just need to back the fuck up. <sigh>

On Pubs

Hey, you.
YOU.
Remember pubs?
It's only been 2 weeks since the "lockdown" but I feel like my memory is fading and I feel as though my memory is tinged with rose-coloured spectacles of nostalgia.
Oh pubs. You go to a place and you drink a pint (I don't drink pints) and you play a game of darts (I don't play darts) and you pet the dog in the corner (I absolutely would pet a dog but not all pubs have a dog in the corner). Good times, man. GOOD TIMES.
I'll tell you what I really miss: hanging out with my friends. I suppose that's what my nostalgic misery is about. I miss texting someone and saying, "hey, are you free? Fancy meeting for a drink?" Instead I find myself texting, "Hey, wanna Zoom? I'll be ready in 5 minutes" and then texting invite meeting passwords and nonsense and it is just not the same.
George Orwell famously wrote about the best pub. Where a dog is in the corner and the old boys are smoking pipes and talking and there's a fire and a dartboard and the perfect pub doesn't exist (was the point of the essay, maybe).
I'll tell you what a good pub is though, The Canonbury near Highbury and Islington station. It has a brilliant garden, good food, is near to some decent nightclubs and isn't a million miles away from wherever I have lived (and therefore I can get a cab back, cheaply). Man, I miss The Canonbury. When all of this is over who wants to meet me there for a pint?