Self-hating jobseeker Tom Booker can barely look at himself in the mirror after typing out sentences like ‘I am a proactive self-starter with a commitment to excellence and growth’ in a professional covering letter.

Booker said: “I would never sincerely say something like ‘my goals are in alignment with your corporate values’. No self-respecting person would.

“But thanks to the sick capitalist society we live in and my inability to win the lottery, I’m forced to churn out ridiculous word salad that even ChatGPT would be ashamed of. I’m only applying for a minimum-wage position, for Christ’s sake.

“Each cap-in-hand, jargon-stuffed sentence is an assault on my worth as a human being. I hope to God my wife and kids never read it. They’d move out, change their names, and never contact me again. And that would be the right thing to do.

“I shouldn’t even have to write a sodding covering letter anyway, all of the relevant information is in my f**king CV. Maybe if I just write that they’ll admire my balls-to-the-wall honesty?”

Employer Martin Bishop said: “The worst part is we won’t even read it. The job ad was merely a formality and we’ve already hired internally.”

Digital services manager Tom Booker of Croydon made the upsetting discovery after catching himself smiling at a Teams message from Sophie Rodriguez, who he had previously considered ‘someone from work’.

Booker said: “I thought I was past this. I own an air fryer. I own an air fryer cookbook. I compare energy tariffs for fun. I shouldn’t be lying awake replaying every second of a conversation about oat milk like it’s the final scene of a Richard Curtis film.

“But her hair is so beautifully flaxen, her laugh so reluctantly won, her emojis so exquisitely chosen. How can I not? My friends have kids and pension plans while I’m wondering if this ‘lol’ on Slack means anything.

“My heart beats louder when she passes. She replied quickly to my request for the Q3 accounts, which is a good sign. But it might be because she didn’t want to get in trouble with her line manager.

“Others know. I asked Dan how my shirt looked and he snickered. I saw him talking to her and I broke into a cold sweat. I’m too old for this. I shouldn’t have to navigate complex feelings when I make an involuntary noise when I stand up.”

Sophie, aged 31, said: “I yearn for him, but it can never be. For we are on different lunch rotas.”

All your colleagues openly hate you

Co-workers don’t have to be your friends, but you shouldn’t have to come into the office knowing they all despise you either. It’s also not normal for your colleagues to be openly vying for your job, or for a bunch of people to barrage you with insults when you try to answer their questions each week. Maybe move into something more cushy, like coding?

The papers are begging for you to leave

It’s unusual for the British press to focus on random employees, but if they’re united in their call for you to step down then maybe you should give it some thought. Yes, it’s a little confusing because a couple of years ago some of them were backing you, but that’s just how things go. Don’t take their new scathing attacks on your character personally.

It’s totally unclear what you’re meant to be achieving

You may find most people are unsure about what you’ve actually accomplished in the last two years. Have you in your job somehow been the mastermind behind soaring petrol prices and the surging popularity of fringe parties? If so then well done, you can retire safe in the knowledge that you accomplished something, even if it’s shit. 

The public is calling for you to go

The average worker generally doesn’t have to deal with every man, woman and child hoping you’ll piss off soon. A shelf stacker would pack it in out of frustration if people were lining up to tell them how crap they were and to give their job to Andy Burnham, and you shouldn’t feel any different. Don’t be upset though, just think of it as the universe’s coy way of telling you you’ve done your whole life wrong.

You’re kind of shit at it

Two years is an impressive amount of time to blag a job you’re clearly not cut out for. You can take pride in that, and even add ‘exemplary bullshitting’ to the CV you’re hopefully polishing. Sadly though, being good at a job is often a prerequisite to keeping it. Walk away from the flaming wreckage you’ve created and pray that nobody can trace it back to you.

On learning that the owner of the property would be present throughout the job, builder Martin Bishop realised it would be a long six weeks being snooped on by a soft-handed prick asking dickhead questions.

He said: “Christ. So we won’t even be able to cut bricks without him popping up asking when we’ll be finished as he has a really crucial Teams coming up.

“It’s not that we’re lazy, though it’s a physical job so the lads needs breaks. It’s that you can’t really get into the foul-mouthed Kiss FM hammering rhythm when there’s some brand consultant nine feet away pissing about on a MacBook.

“They’re always out offering tea and asking ‘how’s it going?’ as if they’ll understand the answer. We can’t swear with the same gusto. You can’t even vape without being judged.

“I miss the days when everyone worked in offices and I could walk around their homes, go through their drawers, and eat their food without them knowing. Now when I do it it’s a whole big deal.”

Homeworker Jack Browne said: “I can’t wank, I can’t work, I can’t watch YouTube. I just sit here staring at spreadsheets feeling emasculated while huge men in paint-stained Ralph Lauren lift massive blocks of stone. I wish I still went to an office.”

The employees believe manager Joseph Turner is inarguably unpopular, showing polls that have been conducted around the water cooler with an approval rating of minus 70, but have nonetheless been informed they can go and f**k themselves.

Procurement office Hannah Tomlinson said: “Oh dear. He’s mishandled that badly, and that’s going to hurt him. But oddly, he doesn’t seem to care?

“I explained that he’s lost the faith of the office, that we no longer feel he’s the best person to lead a wholesale packing material importer and distributor forward, and that he doesn’t have to go now but a timetable is imperative. ‘Piss off,’ he said.

“He must not realise the gravity of what we’re saying. That marketing, customer orders, accounts and even human resources have got to the point where we can’t stand by him as the man to cut through the toxicity and reach B2B buyers. Maybe if we say it again?

“Instead we receive a tone-deaf email telling us to ‘answer the phones’ and ‘get the orders placed’ as if any of us could focus on doing our jobs right now. As if this wasn’t a moment of crisis. Maybe if we did the timetable for him?”

Turner said: “Of course I’m unpopular. I’m in f**king charge.”

A long weekend of lying on the sofa and eating chocolate has resulted in Martin Bishop not remembering how to fall short of his ‘key performance indicators’ and risk being laid off during the next round of redundancies.

Bishop said: “I knew something was off when I confidently walked into the office early. That’s so unlike me.

“My suspicions grew as I promptly replied to emails, organised my to-do list, and whipped up a presentation of budget-saving measures the company could easily implement. Usually it takes me all morning to turn my computer on.

“I tried to get back into the swing of things by sending emails without the necessary attachments and taking lengthy toilet breaks, but it’s no use. I stupidly got a raise after coming up with profitable ideas during this morning’s team meeting.

“Am I ever going to remember how to fill in a spreadsheet incorrectly or miss a deadline? Or am I doomed to a successful career of spouting corporate jargon and being respected by my awful colleagues? Christ I hope not.”

Bishop’s boss Nikki Hollis said: “I understand Martin’s concern. But once he’s burnt out he’ll go back to being an unproductive husk.”

The Institute of Studies found that online presentations, without any need for attendees to participate or turn cameras and microphones, are incredibly productive in the sense of getting the washing hung out, the dog brushed and the grouting deep-cleaning.

Professor Henry Brubaker said: “It is a basic human urge to f**k about doing stuff when someone is talking, especially if they’re talking about work.

“A webinar? Our research shows that this time, when an employee is least engaged in work, is often their most productive hour of the day.

“Not for employers, no, but in terms of folding washing, trimming nosehair and applying beauty treatments, it’s really getting tasks ticked off. And over half those surveyed found they still had a rudimentary, one-line understanding of what the webinar was about.”

Hybrid worker Joshua Hudson said added: “I did all the paperwork for my recent house move during a webinar about data-centred analysis of retail park footfall in the West Midlands. It’s saved me hours I can now spend drinking alone.

“If they ever make me have my camera on, I’m leaving the company.”

Webinar host Oliver O’Connor said: “I know nobody’s listening. I pop on a recording of myself back from when I still had hope and get on with weeding the garden.”

34-year-old digital services manager Jim Bates realised his error during orientation when he was welcomed to the team by his employer’s LGBTQ officer, and felt it was the wrong time to correct it.

He said: “I don’t want to offend anyone by being straight. But on the other hand, the longer this goes on the worse it gets.

“Maybe at six months, after I finish my probation? But that will make the rainbow lanyard I’m now wearing a lie and the expenditure on sending me to that Gay In Tech conference fraudulent. And that sounds like it’ll be fun.

“It’s too late to explain my sexuality is a typo, and saying I’ve had a rethink and I like fanny now isn’t going to convince anyone. So I’ve started binging Drag Race to learn the slang and called the Q1 accounts ‘iconic’.

“I get to sit with the girls at lunch, I get a day off to go to Pride, I get compliments on my casual Friday outfits. All in all it’s a positive experience and I’m demolishing gay stereotypes by being a bit fat with bad skin.

“Will from estates has invited me to a gay bar. I’d pull out but I’m in too deep. I hope they serve real ale.”

Retired Reform voters have agreed the latest way young people of today have it too bloody easy is spending half the working week loafing about wearing pyjamas and surfing social media, views they developed while at home all day on Facebook.

Roy Hobbs of Darlington said: “The man opposite? Never shifts off his sofa and his laptop from 8am to 6pm. I know, because I check four times an hour when I close mine for a pee.

“Back when Britain was Britain he’d be commuting an hour each way to do that in an office, having a liquid lunch and smoking at his desk. Today? I’ve seen him, putting a wash on then two hours later hanging it out to dry. The government must act.”

Retired headteacher Margaret Gerving agreed: “They have the telly on, they walk pointlessly from room to room, they gaze around with a ‘is this it?’ expression. They’re taking the joy out of my doing those things in my retirement.

“They need to be grafting harder to pay my state pension and bus pass. I’m planning to live until I’m 95. That’s not going to be cheap.”

35-year-old homeworker Tom Booker said: “Perhaps I could set up an office rent-free in their f**king heads, since I’m apparently there already.”

The wanking isn’t that excessive

Oh sure, at the beginning people who work from home are knocking one out at least five times a day. Nobody can maintain that level of self-abuse though. The punishing hours spent hunched over watching Pornhub soon take their toll, and your genitals become numb to every toy and gel on the market. So over the course of a career the wanking averages out, actually.

Solitude is better than being surrounded by colleagues

Anti-WFH types seem to think that people love to toil away in the company of co-workers they broadly despise. Humans may be social creatures, but that’s with friends and loved ones, not line managers who put you on a PIP for a pathetic power trip. Most staff would happily swap the office for a padded isolation cell, if companies had such progressive workplace policies.

Productivity is roughly the same

Do people who work from home piss away huge chunks of their day? Most definitely. This behaviour isn’t exclusive to them though. Offices and factory floors across the country are humming away with the fake activity of people running out the clock. The pandemic proved that society can doss its way to achieving acceptable productivity, so why bother over-exerting ourselves?

Not all jobs have to be done in soul-crushing offices

Welders and plumbers have to physically go to places to do their work, but that doesn’t mean data inputters or marketing assistants do. It’s a cushy trade-off for having a job nobody respects. Besides, if tradesmen could do their work remotely while lying in bed and drinking a beer, they absolutely would.

It’s the perfect place to film Cameo videos

According to his own rhetoric, Farage should film his personalised videos for £70 a pop in an office and not his home, unless he wants to look like a hypocrite. So he’d better start wasting money and time commuting right away. Although he could just opt for the hypocrisy, as Reform voters don’t mind looking like mugs. How’s that £350 million a week for the NHS coming along? Any word on that yet?

The cheapest bottle of Tesco wine

Warm. Cheap-looking label. Plonked onto your desk without the basic courtesy of being in a gift bag. It’s a clear sign your colleagues regard you with the same affection as the cleaner who shows up at 6pm. Less, in fact, because they at least give him an awkward nod because he does a good job. Unlike you.

A Colin the Caterpillar cake

In the world of office politics, Colin the Caterpillar cakes are reserved strictly for birthdays. Presenting one to a colleague as a leaving present is either an embarrassing error or a veiled insult. Whoever organised this gift knew exactly what they were doing, and that was sending a massive ‘f**k off’ in the shape of a chocolate roll. A chocolate roll they hope you choke on.

A tenner in a card

Cheap as well as thoughtless. There are a dozen people in your team, which means everyone chipped in less than a quid. And you’re fairly certain this is the same note you donated to Nikki from HR’s birthday present fund. At least you’re not a tenner down any more, but even a HMV gift card would have been better.

A pen from the stationery cupboard

A monogrammed fountain pen is up there with carriage clocks when it comes to well-meaning but rather old-fashioned leaving gifts. Being handed a biro from the stationery cupboard means your colleagues forgot you were leaving or simply couldn’t give a shit. If anything, your boss will be more upset to see a useful pen go than you.

A round of applause

This is a gesture of appreciation, not a gift. They’re probably clapping in an insincere way too, like at a school play or when someone drops a pint glass. If they look happy it’s only because they’re glad to wave you off. Don’t kid yourself they’re trying to put on a brave face, their happiness is genuine as they enjoy this glorious moment they’ve been waiting for for years.

Recruitment consultant Carolyn Ryan created the entirely fictional cat after colleagues on her weekly team catch-up check-in workflow management session queried excessive gurgling, munching, and swearing coming from her.

Carolyn: “It’s an excuse for everything. Farts? Cat. Sighing? Cat. Laughing when Darren can’t work the slide deck? Cat. That clattering? That’s not me doing the washing up. It’s the cat adorably knocking stuff over.

“My manager can bollock me, but no one can berate an innocent animal unaware of quarterly targets. One time I took a meeting on the toilet and blamed it on the cat throwing up.

“It provides me with a bulletproof alibi. I even claimed the cat was named ‘F**ker’ – I said I named him after my ex – to give me an excuse to suddenly exclaim that during company town halls.

“It really is invaluable. This is nothing to do with me wishing I had a cat but not wanting to be known as a cat woman.”

Manager Tom Booker said, “We know Carolyn doesn’t have a cat. No real cat owner would ever have the willpower to go this long without showing the rest of us at least twenty photos of it, all of which look the same.”

The ending of Stranger Things was unsatisfying

Yes, it ended on January 1st, but that ending did not please me so I pledged my whole, authentic self to ConformityGate, a theory positing that was a false ending and the one I needed with the correct queer representation I craved was dropping last week. It did not. I am therefore devastated and this is a bereavement such as you olds suffer.

Not everyone on social media agreed with me

I recorded a TikTok sharing my feelings and some of the responses were mildly critical. No, not on the level of the death threats I send to Arianators, but still it’s left me with the psychological scars of a war veteran. Then I recorded a clapback but it didn’t get many views. I feel unheard. That’s the equivalent of a serious illness.

The coffee shop didn’t have oat milk

Like everyone forced into an employment that isn’t a podcaster or influencer, I rely on a daily dose of extremely sugary caffeine to get me through the performative nonsense that you call ‘my job’. Now that my beverage options have been curtailed, I simply can’t be expected to function properly, just like a printer. Check my manual (Instagram).

You gave me constructive feedback when I asked for constructive feedback

I realise that I did ask for feedback, but that was in fact a subtly coded invitation for you to tell me I’m the best at everything ever and you’ve never seen excellence this unparalleled. For you to fail to read social cues that badly and actually tell me how I could make my work better has damaged me beyond compare, and I will invoice for my CBD.

I’m overwhelmed by Whatsapp groups

You and your archaic Yahoo! email address cannot comprehend how much a young person like me is bedeviled by digital correspondence. Having so many friends to talk to and fun things to plan outside of work is extremely stressful, so stressful that I can’t actually focus on work at all.

The climate crisis

Ideally I’d like 12 days a year, minimum, to take off so I can spend them feeling lost and broken about the climate crisis? No, you don’t get one, you caused it.

Vile toilet noises

After a week or so of your own toilet, you’re back to sitting in a cattle stall being treated to the sounds and smells of your colleagues’ bowel movements. And the bloke in the next cubicle appears to be birthing a bowling ball made of excrement. His eventual orgasmic groans of relief are of little comfort to you.

‘Thx in advance’ and other crappy emails 

A colleague is thanking you for something you haven’t done yet, which, let’s be honest, is just saying: ‘MAKE SURE YOU DO WHAT I HAVE ORDERED YOU TO, SCUM!’ At least being talked down to makes you feel something, unlike the important news that the canteen is offering a bacon and brie panini. Sadly your co-worker Bryan is really excited about it. He should kill himself.

The person next to you donning earphones

Colleagues fishing out headphones is great for suggesting you’re cyborg workers in a sci-fi dystopia, permanently plugged into and enslaved by The Machine. But what’s worse is the very strong message ‘I really do not want to talk to you’. How did they know you were going to tell them in massive, excited detail how good Andor is?

Being hot but unattainable

Admittedly this isn’t the fault of an attractive co-worker, but it’s depressing to know you’ll never sleep with Shelley, however devastatingly witty your jokes about the paper recycling bins are. And you’re not deluding yourself that love will blossom this year because you thought that in 2018. Shit, have you been here that long? You’ve wasted your life as well as not getting your leg over.

Disturbing insights into your colleagues’ lives

Occasionally colleagues will share personal details you have no idea how to respond to, usually about their sex lives, intimate medical issues or their weird relationships. You were spared this risk over Christmas, but now Gary is free to inform you ‘So I thought I’d try one of them prostate massagers…’ while you’re trying to eat a Twix.

Beyond-mindless workplace admin

An officious email informs you that the delivery bay will be closed from 8am to 2pm on Sunday 15th February. You didn’t even know the building was open at weekends. How much time have you spent skimming and forgetting useless information like this, the equivalent of learning that cheese sales in Antwerp were down four per cent in 1832?

Leaving to have a baby

Well, that’s nice, assuming they don’t give birth to a notorious serial killer or genocidal dictator of the future. However after years of such announcements you’re still unsure how this very personal life event for Sally and her partner is connected to the office. Should you be present at the birth with insulated jugs of tea and coffee and a plastic carton of tuna mayonnaise sandwiches to hand out as the baby’s head emerges?

Survivors reported the impact of free prosecco on bloodstreams only accustomed to a light lunch unleashed 12 months of hungover Tuesday erections and bored mid-meeting fantasies, culminating in a sex-crazed bacchanal at a Brentwood bowling alley.

Digital alignment co-ordinator Tom Booker said: “It was like Eyes Wide Shut on a mixed use retail/hospitality estate by a ringroad.

“All the repressed desires – Grace bending over, Gareth’s tank top phase, Chloe’s anecdote about water aerobics – burst forth in a riotous flood of festive lust. Turns out paper hats and a DJ playing SexyBack, and Gareth from audit becomes Caligula.

“Doran and Amelia – of ‘we’re just friends, we just have lunch together’ – were rutting in an alcove. Jo from HR was waiting her turn for each of them. I was going down on Carly from sale, who has a minge so comely I wish I could mention it in her performance review.

“And the buffet? I didn’t realise Harry from operations would be the sushi platter, and I’m afraid I made quite a pig of myself. At one point there were three of us tonguing his balls. He’s a promising young man.”

Workplace psychologist Helen Archer said: “The Christmas party exists not to celebrate a year of productivity, but to make employees so divided and ashamed they’re incapable of confronting management for another 12 months.”

‘Santa will be delivering my presents to the office’

You’re not clocking off on the 19th, unlike workshy mothers of school-age kids. You’re not clocking off on the 24th, like fathers of school-age kids. You’re working through. Send meeting invites for the Christmas-New Year period and be disappointed they’re cancelled. You’ll be reply-alling the boss’s seasonal message at 9am on Christmas Day. 

‘The trains will be nice and quiet’

Not only will you be working over Christmas but you’ll be trekking into the office to conduct minor admin. Remind everyone you’re commuting in for a GDPR refresher course and to reorganise the folders in the shared area. Loudly extol the benefits of sitting in an empty carriage sipping a nice hot latte as if there are any. 

Add ‘WORKING OVER CHRISTMAS’ to your email signature

You should have done this from mid-November, to give everyone else chance to regret their folly, but now is fine. End every Teams meeting by asking who needs their desk plants watering. Emphasise that you are the selfish engine which keeps the wheels of commerce turning while everyone else is snoozing in front of the telly.

Wear a smart suit on Christmas Jumper Day

If asked why you’re not joining in ‘the fun’, explain that with so many projects on the go it would be irresponsible to be costumed like a clown when Tokyo could Zoom. Joy and laughter are for lesser mortals whose work is of no consequence. You’ll spend Boxing Day catching up on emails, as Jesus would have wanted. 

‘It’s a waste of leave’

When it comes to annual leave, you’re a master strategist. The Christmas period is perfect for relaxing and taking stock of the year. You pity idiots like Emma for spending a fortnight skiing with her family in Avoriaz, rather than enjoying a rare period of office downtime surrounded by leftover chocolates like you shrewdly are. 

Set your out of office reply to say, ‘I am available, please feel free to contact me over Christmas’

You’ve nailed the comms with those holidaying slackers but what of others, in other offices? Make sure their festive greetings are met with a reply explicitly stating that you’re working and raring to update spreadsheets. Reword the message on a daily basis so it keeps landing in their inbox. Follow up immediately with a call. Don’t mention Christmas. 

Toilet golf

Mildly amusing idea, but in practice a waste of money, time and the planet’s resources. Will be binned unless the recipient has an ongoing constipation problem, spends endless painful hours on the toilet and has no phone. Fingers crossed!

A plastic elf that shits chocolate

Disgusting, unless this mystery colleague has a kink for elf coprophilia they’ve kept to themselves. However, deeply amusing for a slow-brained boring git with a crude sense of humour which describes at least half of your co-workers, so odds-on it’ll be a hit.

Bottle opener

Even in the shape of a Christmas tree or whatever, still an item so universal and basic you may as well have got them 40 freezer bags. They’d probably derive more pleasure from those.

OnlyFans calendar

Suitable for anyone male. Features an attractive woman on the cover but that turns out to be a hilarious joke because it’s… DESK FANS! The joke is too lame to merit hanging it up, and the giftee will be disappointed it’s not tits. Still, it counts.

Large bar of Cadbury’s milk chocolate

The amount of thought that went into this gift clocks in at well under five seconds, and £11 is only slightly above the £10 limit. If you begrudge the extra £1, get the insultingly small next size down and come out £4.50 ahead of the game.

Book of trivia

Within the 200 pages there must be a handful of interesting and surprising facts, surely? After a quick skim where you learn ‘The harmonica is the world’s top-selling musical instrument, due to its small size and affordable cost’ you accept you were wrong about that.

Candy machine

What fun! Your lucky colleague, whoever the f**k they are, will have a permanent supply of M&Ms or jellybeans to share with chums. Except it’s from Temu so it’s a quarter of the size, entirely different to the AI photo and breaks the first time they use it. It’s the lack of thought that counts.

Mousemat

A reminder that the recipient is a slave to computerised drudgery; less an individual with hopes and dreams than an organic component of Microsoft Office. Make it marginally less dull by choosing one about something you have no idea whether they’re into or not like Miffy, fishing or Marvel.

Bath bombs

Not a Lush one that costs a tenner, but a box of 24 from the indoor market. They won’t smell great and they will give the recipient cystitis. Good luck, Angela, whichever of the women who sit near the printers you are.

Rude Santa

Cheap figurines of a naked Santa, cock concealed by a present, and his wife cursed with vast, geriatric breasts. You’ve got to wonder what sort of laddish dickbag would want to own such an item, so perfect for one of the guys in the sales department.

Stephen Malley, aged 51, was telling his two disbelieving sons that for much of his teenage years he would rise before dawn, collect a heavy bag, walk empty streets delivering newspapers, then go to school, then do the same again in the evening.

He continued: “I got paid a tenner a week for that. Other kids who couldn’t get paper rounds were well jealous. What the f**k?

“Out in the cold and the pissing rain carrying 12 pounds of newsprint – 24 on a Sunday – traipsing round rough estates where every other house had a massive scary dog hurling itself at the door. Seven mornings a week, six evenings a week. That shit was mental.

“I’d arrive at school exhausted. I’d leave school and go straight to the newsagent. Why exactly did my parents put child labour ahead of GCSEs? To save on pocket money?

“If you found out 14-year-olds were setting alarm clocks to deliver your Amazon parcels at 7am you’d think it was weird, right? Some minor celebrity would go on The One Show and launch a campaign to stamp the practice out.”

Son Kayden said: “I do not believe I should have to work until I am 25, and I do not believe Dad.”

From Boomers to Generation X, workers cannot grasp the concept that employment should be fulfilling in its own right rather than a soul-destroying way to acquire money for life’s essentials, like cigarettes and bingo.

Martin Bishop, aged 86, said: “Being reimbursed for the valuable time you’re sacrificing to scanning shopping or welding metal is the whole point of a job.

“Meanwhile fun things, like drinking five pints or betting on the horse racing, tend to cost you money rather than earning it. It’s how you tell the difference. Why would you enjoy work? What’s wrong with you?”

64-year-old Susan Traherne said: “The only times I can remember being satisfied at work was when we went home early because they found asbestos in the ceiling. Other than that it was pure misery for 55 years straight.

“if your day consists of Teams meetings, client reviews and managerial catch-ups and you’re trying to find joy in it, there’s something profoundly wrong with you. And I’m saying that as someone who’s repressed all of their emotions since 1978.”

Tom Booker, aged 27, said: “But I don’t earn enough to pay off my loans or get out of this bedsit. So what is work for?”