I think during the day I observed to my partner on no less than 10 occasions that I couldn’t believe it the summer was over. And that the year is two-thirds over. He got bored of it very quickly.

I’m not really sure what my point was. I mean, I moan all the time that time has gone so quickly. I am forever pointing out that death is moving closer. That it’s conceivable that life could be half over. That if we’re unlucky it will be less, and all that saving and planning for having lots to spend come retirement will just be a waste of time.

But it doesn’t change me. I still see my income coming in and am happy squirrelling it away. I am happy that during this year I’ve spent record lows. There is nowhere decent open that isn’t either packed to the rafters, or less fun to go to because of all the restrictions in place. J and I like to mill around shopping centres, looking at things and getting ideas for things to do and buy, eating and drinking coffee along the way. It’s a cheap and relatively fun pastime. But I have no intention doing it wearing a mask and trying to keep my distance from people. Too many people get too close already, so feeding any OCDs I have is not a good idea…

Somehow though, it seems that sitting around doing nothing has made the time fly by. So they are very wrong. Time flies all the time. I remember someone once telling me that the older you get time goes faster and faster. I am feeling that. This year is waning. It’s now autumn, and the summer never really got started. We had some intense heat, then some intense rain, and now it’s grey and borderline cold at night. That’s wrong. It’s too soon. This time last year me and J went on a nice overnight trip at a weekend down the coast. We had a good adventure. It was warm and sunny. This year is nothing of the sort.

I would love to have said though that amidst all this speedy time that there’d been lots of good achieved. I fear that actually everything has gone backwards. Encouraging me to work from home has not ended well. I now do more and more work at home than I should do. I struggle to resist the temptation to check e-mails anyway, but now it’s almost back. The first thing I do when I wake up: turn off the alarm. Then check work e-mails. I don’t ever reply to them unless it’s working hours. I wouldn’t want people to know I was reading them. But I do read them and get annoyed about the crap.

This year has not been good for me. I spent years fully immersed in work at home, because I had no choice. I put a stop to it in 2013 when I moved into the office. By and large it was a successful transition, although I often spend more hours in the office than I should, at least it is truly compartmentalised. Now it isn’t.

In other words, be careful what you wish for. Firms this year have embraced the work from home. Everyone first thought it was great. People are slowly realising that it’s yet another encroachment of work upon home life. I don’t like it. I spend so much time worrying about work that it damages my thinking processes, and it has definitely damaged mine and J’s relationship.

Ah, the relationship. Another casualty of this year. Despite spending so much time together, we have grown further apart. I don’t know what’s going on, but we argue a lot at the moment. If we don’t argue, we’re violently agreeing about how awful the world is and how awful the lying politicians out there are. Or we talk about work. Or what to watch on TV tonight. It’s all very samey. Maybe it’s just because we aren’t doing stuff any more. I don’t know. It’s strange. We definitely don’t say “I love you” very much any more. J used to say it many times a day and I’d get fed up with it. I don’t remember the last time I said it. That’s not right is it?

But the time flies by all the same, and doing anything about… anything… just doesn’t seem to ever happen. I just get up, get ready, go to work, come home, eat, go to bed, and do the same again and again.

Some say I need a holiday. Having spent this bank “holiday” weekend not remotely enjoying my free time, I’m not sure why.