Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Unemployed man declares himself to be “working from home”

Fed up with constant questions from working friends as to what he was up to on his career break, IT consultant Jericho Billingsworth has declared himself to be “working from home”.

“You know what the modern office is like, half the time no-one actually comes in, they say they are working from home instead,” said Mr Billingsworth. “We all know that involves checking a few e-mails whilst sitting in your underpants, watching loads of daytime TV – that just happens to be on – and taking the chance to do your washing and free up your weekend. Well, that is just like being unemployed.”

Mr Billingsworth said that not only was his 'working from home' more honest than most of those salaried employees that use the description, he also claimed he was more productive.

“To be honest, if I had an office to go to, I wouldn't achieve as much,” he said via telephone over the traditional background noise of the busy home office – the clatter of cups in the local Costa Coffee. “I would probably sit in several meetings talking about the mechanics of work that no one has time to do because of Human Resources processes. If I actually did do any actual work it would probably be to rewrite a document or two for projects that will never get implemented. Blogging and falling into an endorphin-induced sleep during Baywatch on Channel 5 are definitely more productive!”

Mr Billingsworth said that as a confirmed 'homeworker' over the winter he has had no need to have recourse to the subterfuge of an off site meeting in order to ensure he can get a round of golf in while the light allows, unlike many of his working friends.

Indeed during a two-hour-long phone interview with Mr Billingsworth the background noise was filled with the traditional minutia of office life that permeates millions of phone conferences everyday, the length and breadth of Britain. There were the sounds of a washing machine, the splashing sound as a document is being retrieved from beneath the suds of a bubble bath and the muffled debate on the distance to the green on the tricky dog-leg 12th hole.

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