Would you get a 20 percent salary cut if it meant you could work from home every day? This is what a London law firm does for its employees, and on the one hand it is fantastic. Every day in pajamas, no need to shave or lipstick; A few pieces of toast, a few emails, still in your pajamas; coffee and biscuits in the bathroom for elevators; Back to pajamas a few emails; kind of bulky, indecent homemade lunch, the kind of thing you wouldn’t eat in public; Few emails; A little biscuit stop for the day.
That was, at least, what I had been working on until last month, even as I got tired of my day baths and my rubber pants. Perhaps the low point was to find a lunch ball on my robe one afternoon, and the absent-minded took it and ate it, only to discover that whatever it was, it sure wasn’t guacamole.
Let’s not get into that. Point being, I had to get out, especially because gas prices were going to go up soon and I couldn’t bear to turn on the heating all day while I was walking around looking like a character from a Victorian sanatorium.
I’ve started looking for co-working spaces, but, getaway Betsy, do you know how much these are? A place in an office in Victoria, not even a permanent desk but a hot desk, would cost me nearly £500 a month. I may also keep heating in the house. I looked at several others, but they were almost too expensive, and shocked with people who sounded suspiciously as if they might be playing their music out loud through their headphones. If you own an empty building in central London, quickly push into some office and a Nespresso machine and you’ll laugh. Or at least be able to buy a whole chicken on Sundays.
Just when I was about to give up searching and “full body hot water bottles” on Google, my brilliant writer friend Laura came up with a cunning plan: Why not join the London library? For £41 a month I now work in the wonderful surroundings of St James’s Square, in an office in a quiet location, which, if anything, is almost too warm. The reading room has papers every day and a very educated vibe (although I left the side by spending an hour on the Nike website last week, looking for new running coaches) – plus, as Laura tells me, it’s the best people’s spot in town . “Rachel Johnson in her tennis kit, Mary Beard by the lockers, Simon Schama coming out of the guys…” All this plus the very attractive lighting in the open, which comes in handy when I’m sipping on drinks in Soho after a long day of online shopping behind laptop. What more could you ask for?
I don’t really want millions of other people flocking to join, which means I have to fight to get an office in the morning, so if we can keep this tip between us that would be great. But I’ll tell you in case you’re in the same predicament, or if your attorney thinks working from home is a happier option.
I promise you it’s not, and anyway, you watched the hit BBC legal series The Split. You have a lot of views on St Paul’s, celebrity clients, and affairs with each other all the time. Don’t give up all that for a dirty dress.
Let’s not understand everything about shoes inside
Tomorrow, just 20 months after I moved to Crystal Palace, my builders started my renovation, so for the past few weeks I’ve had my builder, right hand sony, electricians, plumbers, etc., in to discuss plans. Everyone insisted that their clean shoes be taken off completely upon arrival, even though my house is very filthy, dusty and worn out, with staggered wooden floorboards about to be pulled. Insisting that guests take off their shoes, as if they were just wading into the local sewer before they arrived, used to be a bit of a prize, a whistling bucket. Is this something post-pandemic, given that we are more germ-conscious? I say: keep your shoes; I’d rather look at them than at your feet.
Dear William and Kate – Check the noise before moving on
Three years ago, after Harry and Meghan moved into their cottage in Windsor, I snuck into the floor. They’re rarely opened, as part of the national park scheme (this year, one day only, on August 30th, so get your tickets fast). At the time, I was less interested in rhododendrons and much more interested in staring at the hut in which Harry and Meghan invested £2.4m. Security cameras and cops surrounded him, and as visitors walked around, the coppersmiths chanted “No pictures!” As a middle-aged woman staring at the fence, she made a good point: “How do they keep the baby sleeping with that racket going?” Windsor is just below the Heathrow flight path and planes roar overhead every 30 seconds. With rumors mounting about Prince William and Kate moving to Windsor from Norfolk, it seems fair to warn them.
