There's a phrase 'be careful what you wish for' and in the last two weeks I have come to understand the true meaning of this little pearl of wisdom.
You see, my normal morning goes a little like this:
6:00am: alarm goes off and dog-walk clothes go on.
6:10 - 6:45am: unimpressed terrier gets dragged out for a walk while I dawdle behind dreaming of working from home (this dream involves long baths taken at mid-morning and delicious aromas of freshly brewed coffee drifting into my study as I type my best-selling novel).
6:55 - 7:55am: desperate attempt to find work pass, pack bag, locate the car keys I have lost from the night before (they are always at the bottom of the bag I've just packed), shower, re-pack bag without the car keys this time, dry hair, wear something smart (doesn't always go the way I'd planned) and generally try to make myself look human so I don't scare my colleagues on arrival at the office.
8:00 - 9:30ish: drive to work convinced for the entire journey that I've forgotten something massively important, while using every expletive I know to describe the road works and traffic that are holding me up.
But then it snowed here in Scotland.
It snowed so heavily that I could barely find my car, let alone drive it to the office. Trains and buses ground to a halt and for the last two weeks, my dream of working from home came true. Well, nearly...
6:00am: alarm goes off and Blackberry, mobile and computer go on.
6:03am - 7:30am: throw back cup of coffee, call work for update, throw Kevin out the door for a dawdle with the unimpressed terrier, wonder why I can't focus on my computer screen properly, panic that I've missed something important in my morning update, panic that I still can't see the computer screen properly, realise I've forgotten to put on my glasses, put on my glasses, bombard my colleagues with emails in between checking my Blackberry/mobile/inbox in case I've missed something that must be dealt with as a matter of urgency.
7:30am - 7:33am: have quickest shower ever while ensuring there's enough of a gap in the shower curtain so that I can still see and hear my Blackberry/mobile should a message come through that must be dealt with as a matter of urgency, worry about what might have pinged into my inbox in the last three minutes.
7:33am - midnight: check Blackberry/mobile/inbox, update my work, catch sight of self in mirror with scary unblow-dried hair, recoil, check Blackberry/ mobile/ inbox, update my work, worry I've missed something that must be dealt with as a matter of urgency, bombard my colleagues with emails in case they know something I don't, check my Blackberry/ mobile/ inbox, eat pack of Hula Hoops, check Blackberry/mobile/inbox, update work, worry I've missed something earth-shatteringly important, make coffee while continuing to check Blackberry/mobile and panicking that something which must be dealt with as a matter of urgency has pinged into my inbox during the 30 seconds I've spent in the kitchen making coffee, and so it goes on until...
12:20am - fall into bed clutching Blackberry/mobile, Kevin tries unsuccessfully to prise them from my grasp, worry about what might have pinged into my inbox since I last checked it three minutes ago, wonder what happened to that long bath and best-selling novel I had once dreamt of.
If it weren't for the fact that I know it's thawing because the water from the - previously frozen and now burst - mains pipe is cascading through our building, I'd be using my teeth to dig a channel from here to the office so I never have to do this again.
Why? Because apart from the reality of the situation completely failing to live up to my dream and the fact that I think I'll need more than a few glasses of champagne and a massage to get over the stress-ridden 24 carat World of Angst that working from home creates - I'm really missing my workmates.
Barely a day has gone by this year when I haven't received an e-mail, text, letter or call from my lost love, desperate to see me and unable to understand why I've so abruptly called a halt to our union.
