It may seem unbelievable, and today it's unthinkable, but in January, countless companies NOT given remote access to your systems. Because those who are not visible are dangerous. I work for one of them. Then, in the spring, everything changed from one week to the next.

The sun was shining, it was pleasantly warm. For the first time in 15 years, overcoming the hurdle of five token authentication machines, I finally had my own laptop to display the meagre contents of my 17″ monitor indoors. Security is the main thing, and it's a great pleasure to have a job and not be thanked immediately for participating.

I expected that my colleagues and I would work less. 

Less stress and more happiness, because the comfort zone of introverted programmers is completely filled by the computer. There are no people, no food smells coming from the kitchen (or worse, the next table) and perhaps best of all, no two-hour-long close calls on the roads or on the bus.

You don't even need to take a bath. No need to spend all that money in the wrong canteen. You don't even have to get dressed, you're fine in your pajamas and teddy bear. You can sit in front of the computer all day, play the music you like and not get up all day.

After a week, things started to happen. Stabbing pains in the chair and bowls (actually in you), a stiff back and neck (yet I can't lie down), evening and weekend work (as you're at a machine) and I realised that ordering pizza doesn't help with a monotonous diet (and it's not cheaper).

If you're not a meeting-to-meeting boss/project manager/everywhere-it-goes worker, but you eat the bread of programmers and developers, it's very easy to spend 10 hours in front of the computer, having only got up once to warm up the fleurons in the microwave, that was no more than twenty minutes, and you made two coffees. Or three, whatever.

Still, it wasn't so bad to go to the canteen, we always managed an hour for lunch, plus coffee, without any problems. Maybe we'd run out to the pole. Face-to-face meetings aren't so bad either, because you can sit in several different ways and not listen. Still, it's nice to occasionally crack a tiresome joke just randomly and see the faces of others suffering.

I would say that 15 years was not good, but neither is this five days a week of 8-10 hours of solitary hunching over. I would draw the line somewhere in the middle if asked. 

3-2, or 2-3, something like that, make a week look like that.