IDON’T know about you, but I have never home worked. I have commuted to work five days a week for years and been quite happy to do so.

So, when I was told that due to the virus threat, it was now necessary to pack up and take everything home with me, I was more than a little apprehensive for several reasons.

I packed my wee car to the gunnels with all my equipment, however, once I had unpacked, I stood and stared at the array of bits and pieces, and really wasn’t sure where to begin.

Firstly, I needed a table to set up, so I cleared one I had in my bedroom upstairs.
However, it turned out to be much heavier than it looked.
Bump……. Bump……. bump.
Slowly, I bumped it down stair by stair, and proceeded to gouge a couple of holes in my wall and crush my big toe in the process.
Finally, in situ at my living room window, I rummaged and found a long extension cable and started to put together the many bits and pieces, but to be honest I had no clue which cable went into which hole.
Mouse cable, keyboard cable, monitor cable, ethernet cable.  I didn’t even know what an ethernet cable was!
Finally, up and running, I scanned my living room shaking my head because it now resembled a cluttered bed sit.
I knew life would change, but I decided my basic eating, cleaning and personal habits must be kept to their usual high standards (in my eyes anyway), so before I went to bed my mantra was, stick to your routine Janice, stick to your routine.
Sure enough, 6.50am, my alarm sounded, and I jumped out of bed to head for a shower.
“What’s the point,” I wondered.
“I might as well wait until tomorrow.”
“Stick to your routing Janice,” 
a voice reminded me.
So, day one was fairly normal and although not wearing my work attire, I was dressed and had on my full makeup.
Day two, and sitting at my laptop busily typing away, all I could think about was what I was having for lunch.
Soup, sandwich, toastie... or maybe a soup and a sandwich?
“Is 11am too early for lunch,” 
I asked myself.
My reasoning was all over the place.
“If you’re hungry, you’re hungry.” 
So, I had my lunch at 11am.
Back to emails and calls, and I realised that I had sat in the same uncomfortable position for so long my back was now aching, and as I couldn’t go anywhere, I had a plan.
Up and down, up and down, up and down.
I ran up and down the stairs half a dozen times, but like a hamster in a wheel, the repetitiveness was incredibly boring.
More work and phone calls and I happened to glance at my Fitbit.
“Eh?  This can’t be right,” 
I screeched.
“Still only 1200 steps!” My daily steps had plummeted drastically, because normally by this time in the day I would have done at least 3000!
Up and down, up and down, up and down. Off I went again.
Gazing out of my front window I was bored in between emails, after all, there was very little movement, and yet again all I could think about was what I was having for dinner.
Salmon, fish fingers, prawns... but I had a craving for a fish supper, and the only reason I wanted one, was because I knew I couldn’t have one, and anyway, it was only 4.30pm and much too early for dinner.
“Stick to your routine Janice, stick to your routine.”
Next minute, I found myself back in the kitchen cooking my dinner which I would normally have at 7.30pm.  And by 4.50pm it was gone. 
So much to sticking to my routine. Day two and I had 
failed.
Sitting at my laptop again, I received an email from my colleague Chad, who was now home working for his fifth day, 
and things in his household were seemingly worse than mine.
“How you are doing home working Janice,” he asked.
“OK, looking forward to my dinner,” I lied, as I’d just eaten it.
“How about you?”
“Well, my problem is, my home office is in my kitchen,  and my kitchen table faces the fridge.”
I could see where this was going.
“And even when I’m working, all I think about is food.
“So, I made myself a mug of tea, and began typing away and answering calls, and before I realised it, I had eaten 16 Blue Ribands!”
I burst out laughing and smiled to myself thinking that having my dinner at 4.30pm was nothing compared to Chad scoffing 16 Blue Ribands.
Next minute, another email.
“Help Janice, I’ve an unopened packet of milk chocolate Hob Nobs in here and I’ve not touched them yet… but they’re calling me.”
When I finally stopped laughing, I replied.
“Chad, do you live in a flat, or do you have stairs?”