MANY of us have hauled ourselves back to the office, and under new, strange rules of engagement, are settling back into the absurdity of the morning traffic rush, packing lunch boxes again (what the hell to put in them?) and sharing fridges, with our names written (underlined in some cases) on our milk and lunch boxes.
I confess that my time at home was pure bliss. How lucky we were that the working from home (WFH) epoch took us through the worst of winter. Willowton, where The Witness office is, is a good few degrees colder than home and I always dread the big freeze on the winter commute to work.
All in all, WFH was a great adventure in many ways, a novel experience to shake us out of the mundane.