I am fortunate enough to have a safe, steady job that looks after its workers, and we have all been told to work from home if we can do so productively. Obviously I can't be productive from home because I'm on Twitter all the time, but I'm doing my best.
My team lead, of whom I am extremely fond, communicated the news in an email ending:
"Thanks, and please avoid turning into wild-eyed supermarket looters or gibbering cellar-dwellers."
My flatmate atommickbrane is also WFH, but we have a flat with enough space for two people to be in all day without getting on each other's nerves too much. We've agreed to walk to the park once a day to get some exercise and catch Pokémon.
There's a lot of working from home advice floating about, most of which I disregard ('change into work clothes for working' - pff, we all know I'd wear pyjamas to the office if I thought I could get away with it).
I have plenty of books, DVDs and Airfix kits to keep me entertained. Renown Films had a special offer on 1960s US detective series Honey West, which I'd heard of years ago on the Man from U.N.C.L.E. mailing-list, and I'm finding it a lot of fun. The key point is that Honey has a pet ocelot named Bruce. The poor thing has undoubtedly been declawed and loathes all its scenes with humans, so the actors have to deliver their lines with a large angry cat hanging off them.
Here's the intro, which should make it obvious why I'm so keen:
The BBC was kind enough to provide an hour and a half of Bond on Saturday, with Toby Stephens starring in an audio adaptation of The Man with the Golden Gun, so I have that to enjoy too. Martin Jarvis, without whom no talking book is complete, is the voice of Ian Fleming. This and Doctor Who is why I pay the licence fee.
I told my colleagues I had enough booze and books to see me through.
"Mm, I can just see you, book in one hand, cocktail in the other, as the world goes to hell," said one.
I can think of worse ways to go.