Woman sick of commute from bedroom to kitchen table

A WOMAN is fed up of the long, tedious commute from her bed to the kitchen table where she works. 

Marketing consultant Emma Howard calculated she is losing seven-and-a-half minutes of her life to the gruelling commute, and even podcasts are no solace.

She said: “It’s the door, then the landing, then the stairs, the hall, the front room, the back room, the kitchen. Every bloody day.

“45 seconds is on a good day. The traffic can be outrageous. Cats on the stairs, the tail-end of the school run, and my husband talking loudly to his colleagues when I’m trying to get to my desk.

“There’s always a queue at the f**king coffee machine if I want one before I get in, and my chair usually has robot dinosaurs on it. By the time I arrive it’s all I can do to check my emails.

“I know the government are saying to go to work if you can but I’m not sure I can any more. The social distancing is basically non-existent.

“I’m considering a job a bit closer to home. Ideally actually under the duvet.”

Man questioning life decisions that have led him to queue two hours for KFC

A MAN queuing for two hours to buy a bucket of chicken is going over every decision in his life that has led him to this moment. 

Nathan Muir has so far ruminated on failed relationships, missed opportunities and poor choices while his Ford Ka moved approximately 100 yards over an hour towards a fast-food restaurant.

He said: “I’ve had a vague, nagging feeling that things went wrong somewhere for a while now. But this two-hour wait for warm grease is really crystallising it for me.

“I’ve made the wrong decisions in my career. I’ve screwed up my love life. My dad can’t talk to me without the unmistakable undertone of disappointment.

“Even on the small scale, I could be anywhere right now. I could be climbing a mountain. I could be writing a novel. Instead I’m here, in a 19-year-old car with a buggered clutch, sweating in the sun as I queue to be awarded chicken.

“That’s my priority in a global pandemic. Hot chicken. The world would miss me not at all.”

Two cars behind, 38-year-old Helen Archer said: “I’ve got a good job and a family that I love. What am I doing? Please don’t use my real name.”