• In which I realise the highs and lows of the stay-at-home girlfriend

    Well, not quite the stay-at-home girlfriend. It implies a certain easygoing style that totally consists of poached eggs and crumpets for breakfast. The reality is sadly far from it. Of course, when you’re jumping up at ungodly hours to join the rest of the proles going to work, dealing with office politics and the frustrations of a thankless manager and coming home too exhausted to cook, you often muse about the shiny, happy place called the ‘home office’. I joined that elite club this year. Bravely moving from the ‘stability’ of an employed environment to the thrills and spills of the self-employed. To be fair, the move was brought on…