ARE you, like King Charles, unable to stop working 16-hour days, not even taking weekends off? Find out:
You wake up. What’s the first thing you do?
A) Fumble for the snooze button, throw the duvet off, shower then head off to the train station in darkness to be at the office for 8am
B) Lie there making a ‘Gaah’ noise until your needs – lighting, food, the removal of bedclothes – are met by others
What are your morning working priorities?
A) Christ, so many. Check the overnight IT reports, work out cover patterns for the next month, go over invoices, and that’s before we get to the meetings
B) A man is coming in a car to take me somewhere. I will be briefed on the way
What do you do for lunch?
A) Crisps and a Dr Pepper at my desk, it’s all I’ve got time for
B) I am served a banquet at a ghastly provincial location where I must make conversation with a Mayor. The food is no more than adequate
What about the afternoon?
A) All those bloody meetings wasted so much time I’m head-down non-stop just to try and get my inbox halfway cleared. By the time I look up it’s dark
B) I am taken to a place where I am required to shake up to 20 hands while being polite, then conveyed home
And the evening?
A) Train’s late and I can’t work on it because there aren’t any seats, dinner, put the kids to bed then I’m back on my laptop. You always swear you won’t but then you have to
B) After I am bathed and dressed, meet my wife and complain about the bloody abominable day I’ve had. Still, nothing now until February
Mostly As: Workaholic? You barely put in a shift. Britain’s productivity crisis is entirely down to you and your layabout ilk.
Mostly Bs: Nobody could possibly work as hard as you do, Your Majesty. You are a shining example of hard graft for your subjects to follow.