JAN MOIR: I’ve gone full cavewoman working at home – even Michelle Pfeiffer has got cabin fever

This week millions of Britons have had to start working from home for the first time in their lives. 

Or at least the first time in their adult lives — certainly since they did inky blot arithmetic home – work in Year 11. 

Many of them have been posting reports on social media and phoning into radio shows to detail their progress. I like their attitude! 

The newbies are as keen as mustard. They are as sharp as vinegar. 

Check them out with their laminated work schedules, their designated work corners and their screen breaks plus regular hydration times. 

They have started off with very good intentions. 

All of them seem to think the most important thing is to get up early, to floss and shower and get into smart workwear asap. 

To keep up grooming and personal standards to office level. To get into a 9-to-5 routine and stick to it. 

Well excuse me while I guffaw into the sleeve of my favourite llamaprint pyjamas. 

Which yes, I do still happen to be wearing post 1pm, even though I have been working for hours. 

This is because surely the entire point of working from home — the best bit, in fact — is not having to get dressed up like Alicia Florrick in The Good Wife every morning, right down to the peplum suits, perfect tights, high heels and a daily blow dry? 

Last week, I briefly mentioned some working-from-home tips I have gleaned over the years. 

So many of you got in touch that I have expanded my lived experience — as the kids say — into this invaluable guide. 

Know that I worked from home for years, but for the last decade- and have done so intermittently for the Daily Mail, where I have a lovely desk in the newsroom that I already miss with a piercing affection. 

I’ve been home alone for the past two weeks, self-isolating because of a cold, which I now know is nothing, but I didn’t want to take the risk. 

In that time I have practically gone full cavewoman. Is that really such a bad thing? 

You decide . … 

WFH dress sense

Women might start with an ironed blouse and neat hair, but it won’t last. By week two, they will start to dispose of bras altogether. 

Soon they will believe said bras to be ceremonial garments, only worn by royals on their wedding days. 

Men will resort to underpants and tracky bottoms and why not? The whole point of working from home is to pin your hair on top of your head with a pencil, put toothpaste on your spots and just get on with it. 

No one can see you. Or can they? 

Skype & Facetime 

Why for God’s sake? Won’t an email suffice? Businesswoman Dame Helena Morrissey has a hugely popular Instagram account in which she encourages women into smart workwear. 

Now working from home like so many in the City, she advises jeans down below — but jewel colour polo necks and statement necklaces on top for Skyped meetings. 

‘It is polished and appropriate for remote meetings,’ she says. Well so is a console table, but I’m not introducing it to my boss anytime soon. 

Lunch 

Forget it. Lunch for the experienced homeworker is usually a fistful of cornflakes and a gargle with milk taken on the hoof as you pad around in slipper socks looking for that urgent file that you thought you brought home from work but did not. 

Everyone says lunch is important — rubbish. It is vital, but only on days when you are not working. 

So don’t make a fuss about lunch, don’t obsess about it, don’t self-comfort by faffing about with recipes and making something lovely. Have a bowl of soup. Make a sandwich. 

Don’t have pasta because you will fall into a carb coma and never get anything done. Important: don’t give into the urge to enjoy yourself. That way lies ruin.   

Colleagues

Start a WhatsApp group with colleagues to keep you all in the loop, this is good for an endomorphic boost on both a professional and social level. 

It is an adult and sophisticated way of exchanging work information. For example, this afternoon one of my workmates wondered if anyone had contact details for a Hong Kong-based epidemiologist. 

I messaged back yes, I had the telephone number of a Dr Sum Ting Wong and honestly I haven’t stopped laughing since. 

My llama pyjamas are wet with tears of mirth. He hasn’t responded. Have I spent too much time alone? 

Enjoy nature 

Take time to smell the roses. Go for a walk. Or open the window and listen to the blackbirds. 

Admire the unfurled magnolia trees and invest in a pair of windowsill binoculars. This means that you can appreciate nature, even if you live in the middle of a city like me. 

I have a pair of Nikon Akulon 10 X 25 binocs, light and easy, perfect to slip into a dressing gown pocket. 

Now let us see what the hell is going on in the ’hood. My home overlooks a communal garden planted with ornamental shrubs including rhodethingys and whatsitcalled. There are some majestic plane trees. Or are they oak? 

I like to train my binocs on the squirrels running along the bare branches and . . . isn’t that Mrs Arnold from No40 going down to the bins?

She hasn’t bagged her recycling properly. Again! I can see right into the kitchen of N o25 where my friend Alison is making another dreary lasanga for her kids. Don’t they get sick of her pasta bakes?

And Alison, there is no need to pop open a beer at 3.30 is there? Speaking of which… 

Alchohol 

Some like a glass of Madeira and a slice of seed cake at 11am, and a sharpener at lunch, but listen to me: Don’t. 

Try to hold off, until 4pm at least. A 6pm G&T would be entirely civilised but you don’t want to get into bad habits, so don’t even start. 

Most experienced work-at-homers will advise waiting until 7pm at the earliest to reach a shaking hand into the fridge, drag out the chardonnay and gun down a bottle before your pizza has defrosted. 

There isn’t a project or a sentence in the English lan – guage that was improved by alcohol, so try to desist. Speaking of which . . . 

Follow dreams 

Use this time to start to write a novel. I’m only kidding. Don’t. 

Keep in touch

Don’t listen to the radio. It’s just too distracting. There is one exception to this rule, which is Ken Bruce’s Popmaster Quiz each weekday morning at 10.30 on Radio 2. 

On Wednesday lute playing Penny from County Durham thought that I’m Not In Love was 10cc’s first hit, although we all know it was Rubber Bullets. Idiot! 

Dave from Stoke on Trent mistook the Dixie Cups for the Rubettes, not an easy mistake to make. And whatever you do, don’t turn on daytime TV. 

There’s nothing on anyway. Not until Bargain Hunt and Flog It in the late afternoon, at least. Tidying Up Don’t get bogged down with distraction tasks. 

Such as cleaning the oven. Eyebrow plucking. Fixing the knob on the dish – washer. Affixing squeezed out lemons to the taps to clean them. 

Starching napkins. Putting the knives in the knife rack. Organising summer sandals. 

Popping on wellies over llama pyjamas to stock up on wine. All of which I have done today. 

Good Examples 

Yesterday morning, home worker Nigella Lawson baked a loaf of bread made with half dark rye flour and half strong white bread flour. 

‘I’m finding baking bread very comforting right now,’ she posted . Absolutely infuriating. 

Unemployed musician Bob Geldof got bored and rang breakfast television on Thursday to tell everyone he was self-isolating even though he wasn’t ill, and anyway his children were coming around later. 

Was he just bored? Stop wasting our time, Sir Bob! Michelle Pfeifer posted a photograph of her working out at home as she battled ‘cabin fever’ on her in-house personal treadmill. 

Meanwhile, a lot of celebrities sang Imagine online including Jamie Dornan, Isla Fisher, Gal Gadot and Will Ferrell. 

Celebrities, we accept your need to indulge in pious showboating while doing nothing of practical help, but please, not now. 

The Internet 

Switch it off. There is no end to the nonsense one can watch while convincing yourself it is research. 

My current personal favourites are websites about cute dogs, buying property in Manhattan, outtakes from AbFab on YouTube and Alison Roman recipes. So follow my advice. 

Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. And you will be just fine!

How we funded benefits bombers

The brother of Manchester Arena bomber Salman Abedi has been found guilty of murdering 22 people. 

Hashem Abedi had denied helping to plan the ‘sudden and lethal’ blast which killed or injured nearly 1,000 innocent souls. 

One can only hope his sentence will be severe. Yet I remain absolutely appalled that benefits claimed by his family were used in the suicide bomb plot. 

Consider that his mother Samia Abedi received more than £2,000 each month in welfare payments. 

This included monthly payments of £692 housing benefit, along with weekly payments of £302 working and child tax credit and £61.80 child benefit. 

Even worse, benefits continued after she left the UK in 2016, taking her three youngest back to Libya. Did no one from social services ever check on this family? 

Obviously not. Her terrorist sons carried on accessing her benefits boosted bank account to buy a large £300 battery and tools to construct the bomb. 

The brothers also lived off this money, plus a £1,002.54 payment was made to Salman Abedi from the Student Loans Company. 

The device that tore into teenage pop fans? Paid for and funded by taxpayers. 

Sometimes one despairs of the stupidity of this kind and generous country, and the easy portal through which the evil-minded can access our largesse. 

Just when we needed him most, Monty Don is back on Gardeners’ World (tonight, BBC2, 8.30pm), mulching and seeding and being capable in his wellies, with his dogs Nigel and Nellie at his side. 

‘It has been a long, wild and wet winter,’ he said in a trailer for the programme, as daffodils bobbed in pots and the bare branches of trees could be seen in the distance. 

I had a little sob at all this, and his comforting presence. I don’t really know why. 

We live in strange times, and becoming emotional at Monty being jaunty is just the start.