
Join in a Houseparty? I’d rather lick a shopping trolley
SINCE many of us have been forced to work from home there has been a flurry of funny memes about what we're all doing there behind closed doors.
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Most of the jokes reference how much more we are eating and drinking (true), how infrequently we get out of our pyjamas (true) and how bad our roots are (true - I am talking about the grey hairs on my head - what were you thinking?).
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There are delicious recipes for things like the cocktail of the year, The Quarantini (30ml of Kahlua, 15ml of Baileys, 15ml of vodka and vanilla ice cream in case you're interested).

There are requests to join Houseparty and Zoom, but with my entire work day comprised of phone conferences, group chats and hundreds of group emails, the thought of more online quasi-human interaction makes my smile freeze - much like my two computer screens do every 30 minutes or so, just before I've saved my work.
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My Bookclub is thinking about holding a Zoom meeting (with wine of course), but to be honest I'd rather lick a shopping trolley.
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Yes, I miss my gal pals, they are funny and interesting and the wine is good, but I stare into a screen 10 hours a day. The only screen I want to stare into after 7pm is the big one in front of my lounge that requires no answer back and which offers no glimpse to the outside world of what I look like. Because right now, it's probably the worst it's ever been.
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No doubt, around the globe, this working from home gig could turn out to be a welcome and permanent arrangement.

Not me though. I can't wait to get back into the office.
If home is where the heart is, bringing my messy, demanding job into the heart of my heart is giving me angina.