The character I create in order to fit in at the office is nothing like me at all. My short messy hair is parted and tamed, my shabby jeans and old t-shirts are replaced with respectable suits and fashionable ties, and my general negative outlook is substituted with a kind and friendly disposition. He’s a completely different person. Working me is punctual, organised, and focused; casual me is late, disorganised, and absentminded. We really are polar opposites. Last Friday I took the afternoon off and went to the pub for a drink. It was great to return to my informal self before the weekend was even underway. Unfortunately I ran into formal me on my way to the tavern. He was pretty pissed off, which I can understand, I was heading out to spend his hard-earned money. I really couldn’t be bothered talking it through though; after all, it was Friday afternoon. For the first time in my life I decided fighting would be my best course of action – I was pretty sure I could take working me; I might be soft, but no way was I as soft as him. The brawl lasted all of five seconds. I was knocked out cold immediately. My formal self was so organised he’d anticipated the situation. He’d been taking Jujitsu classes during lunch breaks.