According to an internal E-mail I received yesterday, I had responded, a few months back, to another, asking whether I occasionally work from home. And apparently I’d indicated that I do. I’m not sure what possessed me to respond so: must have been dreaming of distant manuscript- and application-productive days past, when, being a shared noisy office minion, I would bugger off out of here to
drink wine and play music at volume get some peace and quiet, so I could meet whatever deadline. Nowadays, home is where I’m more likely to unproductively knock off a blog post – something I haven’t been doing much lately (as evident from this ramshackle, lazily titled effort); yet it’s not as though there hasn’t been sufficient stimulation, what with Indarjit Singh’s confused and confusing Tft(b)D take on freedom of speech (which translates roughly as free speech is fine as long as it doesn’t bother anyone, otherwise it shouldn’t be quite so free); and the seemingly all over rather quickly fuss about Craig Venter’s synthetic life, despite the best hysterical efforts of The Daily Mail, and the arguably-mistitled Science paper (because it’s not ‘creation’, which plays straight into the boring, unoriginal, desperately sensational ‘Playing God’ knee-jerking, but rather ‘invention’); although I guess I kind of missed the boat on those – but which, as I’m not employed to do, I can hardly (legitimately) claim as ‘work’ now, can I?
Should have seen it coming, eh? It transpires that those of us who, in flattered self-importance, unthinkingly replied in the affirmative, are now required to read a bunch of documentation on home and lone working, and Health & Safety… and to complete a ‘H&S Training Module’, and a questionnaire… ( What the …?! ).
So, do I adopt my usual, attitudinally bad policy in response to such bureaucracy (- ignore it!)? Or announce that, henceforth, I will no longer work at home?
Decisions, decisions. Oh, there was another E-mail last week – a very important one. Crunch time is approaching.