Today is one of those days I am positively ecstatic that I no longer work.

Their tedious restrictions have been eased and people are allowed to return to the office after fifteen [or is it sixteen, or eighteen?] months of working from home.

First of all there is the problem of commuting. So far as I know there are still some restrictions on public transport so buses and trains will be full before they even reach your stop. Good luck with that. And if you are driving, roads will be chaotic as people have lost the rhythm of the regular commute.

Assuming everyone eventually arrives at the workplace, the fun really begins.

Is everyone vaccinated? The boss can’t ask as it is deemed illegal. Rumour will therefore spread like wildfire throughout the office that Brian in the corner over there is an anti-vaxxer. This may be true but more likely isn’t. Truth doesn’t matter though and poor Brian will be shunned to within an inch of his life. There will be frantic displaying of smart phones assuring each other that they are “safe”.

Then there is the small talk. Everyone will have to recount in great graphic details all the terrible horrors they endured during the lockdown. There will be stories of visiting Granny in the old folks’ home and how she died roaring and alone. There will be babies born where the mother hadn’t even been pregnant at the start of the Pandanic. There will be “funny” stories about the chaos some Zoom call caused when the recipient wasn’t dressed in time.

Of course restrictions still state everyone has to wear a face nappy and anti-socially distance and they will all probably be separated by plastic screens so they’ll all have to shout. There will be no peace and quiet in the office.

The face nappies of course will lead to problems. At that meeting where you are all “socially distancing” around the table, how can you judge other’s reactions? Is the Boss leering, laughing or about to explode in a fireball of wrath? Only the eyes can tell. Someone will doubtless suggest removing all face coverings at which point half will leave the table in blind panic.

At least the men needn’t bother shaving in the morning. My bet is that a lot will have grown beards which they will be anxious [ or too embarrassed] to display. That probably goes for a few women too.

Yes. I shall sit here in my mountain-side retreat and revel in the joys of retirement.

Who needs work anyway?