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Working from home... what day is it again?

It’s week two of working from home and I have taken to telling myself upon waking each morning what day it is and how grateful I am to have toilet paper in my house – I mean who would have thought?

Do I have to get up today and walk down the passage and go to work or do I get up and walk down the passage and put Netflix on instead – the struggle is real as the consecutive days spent at home start to add up and blur together.

In my previous life I was a dairy farmer and worked from home for 24 years but that was when I had hundreds of acres to get around and 270 cows to milk twice a day, every day, and not the small urban backyard I have today.

Most of my former life was spent working outside and town living has been a pretty big adjustment; now I can add working from home, in town, as my next big one.

I know it won’t be forever of course, but it is a little harder than I first thought it was going to be.

On the other hand, my dog, a Labrador, Jack Russell, Maltese cross named Barney-George (aka the big boy on account of the fact he is essentially a dwarf Labrador), can’t believe his luck to have me home every single day.

His day is now spent alternating between sleeping on the couch or staring at me with love and adoration.

Like all of us though, I can’t spend every single hour of every day locked inside and there are times when I must jump in my car and head down the street.

Heading out to the shops is now fraught with danger and while it has always been socially unacceptable to pass wind in public, we can now add coughing and sneezing to the list.

God forbid if you just have a cold or a touch of hay fever.

I was in a shop last week getting some much needed supplies when the sales attendant started to sneeze, into his elbow of course.

He followed all the correct protocol but by the time he had finished sneezing, blew his nose, sanitised his hands and repeated the process twice, I was now standing about 25 miles from the counter and basically shouting my question to him as the distance between us widened with each sneeze.

He mumbled something about hay fever, but I just thought to myself, mate you are in for one very long day and seriously why don’t you just go home?

I was in another shop and the attendant started to cough; he just looked at me and said, “it’s a smoker’s cough, okay?” and I just thought to myself, I bloody hope that’s all it is.

I mean what is happening to me?

I have never been one to worry about germs or getting crook.

Working on a dairy farm surrounded by dirt, grime and effluent certainly allows you to operate with a relaxed attitude as you build up a fairly strong immunity, but even I now have hand sanitiser in my car (a lucky purchase I actually bought months ago instead of handwash) and am religiously cleaning them after every shop I visit.

It’s going to be a long few months ahead.