Maybe hibernating in January isn't such a terrible idea. Many a time I've touted the theory that we should be able to hide away through the worst parts of Winter, burrow our bodies deep into a slanket until Spring and utilise those fat reserves built up in December. Rebuild the liver, detox, declutter and catch up on sleep. Read a book, watch a film, slow down that resting heart rate after the excitement of party season and give the bank card a breather. Usually it's a cue for me to continue running around trying to fit in work, exercise, entertainment, Restaurant Week, show rehearsals and school runs - this time last year I'd played live onstage with a band (I didn't just storm the stage, I was invited!), covered 60km on my new Fitbit, attended a theatre production committee meeting after work followed by a show rehearsal, been to a BBC Radio writing workshop and travelled to London and back in a day to catch up with a lovely friend and see "Dear Evan Hanson". January is the most gruelling month, it seems to go on forever and it makes little sense to be fighting the elements when they're signalling you to stay put. There's often a nasty flu bug chucked into the mix. But why do we battle to get on the bus or into a car that doesn't want to start or that skids about, with teeth clattering, only to arrive late to sit in an office where you can barely feel your fingers and toes? That sad sight of office workers sat hunched in ponchos, hugging hot water bottles to their chests in fingerless gloves and drinking tea, demolishing the remains of the Christmas chocolates to retain energy.
Well this year I'm certainly being given the opportunity to try out my theory of hibernation. The first ten days of January were largely spent wedged on the sofa from 9am to 11pm working on a laptop, posting journals for yearend, updating margins in spreadsheets with one ear on "Come Dine With Me" and another on the kids, trying my best to homeschool one (Year 5) and give moral support/Uni advice to the other (Year 13). I've averaged 2,500 steps a day, most of which was trips to the kitchen, bathroom or the garden to the over-flowing bin for my daily workout of pushing down the recycling, forcing more pizza boxes in. Eight hours sleep a night instead of six and one book finished, a new one started. Maybe this will become an accepted January behavioural pattern as businesses realise there is an alternative to paying for all that office space and huge utility bills all year round. Until recently working from home was often viewed fairly negatively by many bosses with half joking comments about watching "Homes Under The Hammer" through gritted teeth when requested. A couple of years ago at work when heavy snow struck, I decided after a botched attempt to leave the estate that driving was too treacherous and that I didn't want to risk joining the abandoned vehicles strewn along the roadside so turned back and worked from home that day. Some people spent hours getting to the office and back home and probably spent a fair portion of their day stressing over it and discussing how bad the journey was. An email went round saying that those who didn't come into the office would need to take holiday - in other words the trust just wasn't there to allow for working from home. To my mind, if you're a natural slacker at work then you're equally as liable to be slacking in the office as you would from home. If you're a grafter then you'll get the work done wherever you're based and most people prefer to get the work done in my experience. Plus you'll likely do a bit extra partly from relief that you didn't have to risk life and limb to get to your workstation and also because you're sat comfortably so you may as well finish the task.
I do miss the crack and the laughs of the office and the theatre groups I'm involved with under more normal circumstances but in the short term a few childish memes and exchanging a bit of banter and the odd insult with the TV, the cat, the kids or my husband can do just as well. The hardest part at the moment is probably having no idea when we will be allowed back into society again and whether we will remember how to function out in the wild.
For key workers of course it's a whole different story. These absolute rocks of society have no choice but to be physically present for long hours at hospitals, pharmacies, surgeries, hospices, care homes, morgues, factories, supermarkets and the rest. They have my complete admiration and gratitude for stepping up and going out into the fray and I'll willingly pay more taxes if it means they can be better recompensed. That so many of them are on minimum, low or even zero wages makes these key workers all the more amazing to me as I sit on my behind counting my blessings. If ever there was a time that illustrates who is the backbone of the system we operate in, it's here and now. We should never forget who kept turning up, who pushed through and didn't have the option to stay safely at home - the cleaners, farmers, refuse collectors, posties, truckers, drivers, nurses, medics, teachers, retail workers, undertakers, broadcasters, thousands of carers and many others. A lot of people have retrained from other careers to do these roles after redundancy. I doff my wooly hat to salute these warriors and say "you are all amazing!". Meanwhile it's back to the bear cave for a few more weeks of hibernation, trying not to get too anxious about when it will be over and how much the heating bill will be. And of course Dave Lamb.
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