What starting a job remotely taught me about British office culture

et’s rewind, for a second, to summer 2019. It’s 7.37am and you’re considering a third hit of the snooze button. It’s after-work drinks tonight (meaning someone has loosely suggested heading out “for one”) so today, unfortunately, is a hair-washing day.

On the bus to the train station, you scroll through Instagram, noticing your best mate has posted some Instagram stories from last night that you’re certain will have been deleted by the time you reach the office. 

You arrive two minutes late (the bus got stuck behind one of those weird party floats which is powered by 10 people peddling) to see your work wife clutching a sausage and egg McMuffin. She looks at you with a guilty grin but says nothing.