There are few things in this life worse than having to be somewhere at a certain time, especially an office. However, worse than that is getting the taste of freedom from your employer in the form of being allowed to work remotely, only to have it ripped from you on a whim by the monster in question with the choice of either coming back “onsite” (which, honestly, makes office workers sound like they’re in the far more badass field of construction) or get sacked.
The choice for anyone still of sound body and mind, is pretty simple: risk homelessness and destitution instead of ever consenting to return to the office again, particularly if you’re commuting from New Jersey, where fresh new hells in the public transport system innovate themselves every day. It’s, to be sure, considered cruel and unusual punishment to give anyone a taste of sweet, sweet liberty by allowing them to enjoy the ability to walk around, take breaks and eat or drink alcohol at their own leisure–then, out of nowhere, deciding to take it away. It’s like when Faye Dunaway as Evelyn Cross Mulwray has a mental breakdown about saying out loud the grim reality: “She’s my sister…and my daughter!” It’s something that can tear one apart inside, having to choose between letting a remote job go or actually going back into the office to perform the tasks that really only take up, at most, three hours of your day. But in the end, the decision is clear: let yourself fall off the cliff and into the abyss of poverty.