Here is the situation, I am not able to leave my house to work. That is the simple problem living in this situation.
While others my age swanned off to university, clubbing the nights away and getting away from their parents; I stayed safely at home, knowing with some hesitancy that that life was not what I was ready for. Nestled away far out from a social hub I would later realise I needed more than I thought I did, I carried on with the village life I had known for so long.
I left the house early, avoiding the bustling rush-hour – the sardine train, the aftershave train – getting into the office before it was busy. I would have the office to myself, often not having spoken to anyone that morning. Logging on and running through the to-do list. The normal bustle of the office around me, once some horrendous noise covered up by headphones. My manager knocking on the imaginary door between our desks, confirming costs and dates. Lunch. Two hours of focus, headphones on as I...
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