The WTF of WFH

It was in Junior Infants where my love of routine was crystallised. Before the start of a strenuous academic day, learning about full stops and capital letters, I’d start my unpaid work as an unofficial teacher’s assistant. In later years, my best friend would describe my actions as that of a ‘total lick’ but it was water off a five-and-half-year-old duck’s back.  None of my classmates could match my pace in distributing crayons to desks....