February 24th 2020

Today I was back in the office for the first time in three and a half weeks. I won’t lie, I think I’d’ve preferred to have still been in New Zealand. I’d made that decision before I even got to the office. The pouring rain and the 10-minute walk from the car park to the office skipped me straight to the resentment stage of my day — before it had even really begun.

I was already regretting making the effort to put on a shirt and smart shoes today, and then as soon as I got in the soap dispenser in the bathroom attacked me viciously and won.

That kind of summed up my day, to be honest. The morning was pretty firy as I caught up with the stuff that had happened (though mainly the stuff that had not happened) while I was away, and that riled me up a bit. That, plus, due to jetlag waking me up at 5am, the three coffees I’d had by midday, caused me to be slightly on edge and thus I operated with noticeably less decorum than I perhaps otherwise might have done.

So it was a busy morning back in the office. Was it nice to see everyone again? Of course. Do I wish I was flying back to New Zealand tomorrow instead of driving in to Gloucester? Of course. Was it in a weird way nice to be back? No, don’t be stupid.

Until tomorrow, is this ‘real’ life?


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