You no longer have to commute during rush hour with the hoi poloi, the great unwashed, the ‘general public’.
INSTEAD: You begin to formulate opinions listening to banal radio phone ins including ‘How to escape a rabid dog” and “What do you think would happen if there was no moon”.
No more awkward conversations with the person who works at the office but whose name you can’t quite remember.
INSTEAD: You see no one and terrify delivery men who back away slowly, as you now see them as potential new friends.
You can have lunch whenever you like.
INSTEAD: You forget to have lunch as you’re far too busy.
No more holiday or sick pay.
INSTEAD: You can work in your pajamas and take a month to go to New York and no one bats an eyelid.
No more RSI or back troubles from cheap office furniture.
INSTEAD: Your living room and bedroom become your office and bed sores become a realistic threat.
No more mundane conversations with office co-workers whose lives are so dull even if they found the Turin shroud on the dead body of Amelia Earhart on the weekend, it would be tedious.
INSTEAD: Putting up with mundane conversations with your neighbour who wants you to care about the state of hallway skirting boards as much as he does.
Thankfully, no more monthly emails entitled “Join us in boardroom to raise a glass and say a fond farewell to…”
INSTEAD: No more getting twatted on the boss’s credit card – as it has your name on it now.
Secret Santa becomes rather limiting and obvious.
INSTEAD: No more awkward Christmas party.
No more having to justify that expensive lunch to your boss.
INSTEAD: Your company expenses now include your rent and electricity.
National Insurance and Tax was the Finance department’s worry.
INSTEAD: National Insurance and Tax is your worry and makes your head bleed from the inside.
Friends resent your newly discovered lifestyle.
INSTEAD: The phrase ‘9 to 5’ makes you feel so smug and superior, you so don’t care anyway.