According to my employer, you can go home again if home is where your job is. In spite of my most optimistic views and crazy hope, they sent those who wanted to work at home to do the job there and the two of us who didn't want to work from home have to move back to the train station. As noted previously, I am not a fan of the train station location. It adds 15 minutes to my commute in each direction, it is always busy, you see some weird, uncomfortable stuff. A former coworker saw a fistfight break out on the down escalator, complete with landed punches (she isn't given to hyperbole or exaggeration so I know it must've been a sight). My ex-supervisor witnessed a family ride to the bottom of the escalator and just stop; she had to yell at them to get out of the way, fearing a pile-up. Heaven help you if you get in the path of a commuting hoard; you could be trampled by the group, each of whom has the look of suburban blood in their eyes. We city folk are also trying to get to work, but these lawnhead commuters look like they would crush you under their feet given half a chance. (I solved that problem by not looking directly at them. I didn't want to turn to stone.)
Tomorrow morning at 8:30, lucky me gets to return to that place. Fingers crossed that I don't spend the day crying but I usually reserve that for when greedy, stupid, lying Republicans are elected president.