I’ve grown very used to peace and quiet in my home office. The only noise I tolerate with any grace is the collective honk of geese flying overhead; I might even stop in mid-sentence … sorry, to give them a wave. “Why do you do that?” asks Daughter in exasperation. “You do know they can’t wave back?”

Anyway, you can imagine how distracted I was the other week, when a neighbour had workmen in the garden. Heaven knows what they were doing, but one of them was making enough racket for a team of 20, solely by moving his mouth.

I imagined him standing right next to his colleague, and yet still feeling the need to bellow at a deafening level. To be fair, they might have been wearing ear protectors; I certainly would in the proximity of this individual, who was a natural-born megaphone.

Most noxious of all was the fact that seemingly every second word began with an F. This chap was using swear words like others would use commas, or an array of alternative adjectives. I had half a mind to chuck a thesaurus over the wall, with a few instructions attached on a sticky note.

It reminded me of when, as a kid on the top deck of the bus, I had to listen to the symphony of my mother tutting volubly (and ineffectively) at a young man effing and blinding a few seats behind us.

Don’t get me wrong – I can curse as well as anyone. I’m a middle-aged, menopausal woman, after all. But if you’re going to do it, at least try and do it with a little élan.

When you have a language as rich as English, it’s a shame to focus on such a limited vocabulary, especially given that more than 6,000 new words have been added to the Cambridge Dictionary this year.

These include slang terms popularised on social media, such as the gibberish “skibidi” and “tradwife”, a married mother who cooks, cleans and posts on social media. That is most definitely not me, much to the Other Half’s dismay.

Work-related words to make the cut include “work spouse” – a close working relationship with a colleague (for me, that would be the cat) – and “broligarchy”, referring to a small group of rich and powerful men who have or desire political influence. Tech bros Bezos, Musk and Zuckerberg, I think they mean you.

My favourite term, however, is “mouse jiggler”. Apparently, it’s a device or piece of software used by remote workers to make it seem as though you are working when you are not. Note to self: where can I get one of these, and how can I dupe the IT department into installing it for me?

As a graduate in French and Spanish, I was particularly curious to see a new ranking by Translation experts Localazy of the most popular foreign phrases Brits are most likely to use wrongly. The findings are based on the average nationwide monthly Google searches made for common foreign phrases and terms paired with the terms “pronunciation” and “meaning”.

“Ad hoc”, meaning “for this” in Latin and generally used to mean “when necessary”, topped the list, with 29,731 searches made across the UK each month. Runner-up is “ennui”, a French word that refers to a feeling of boredom and dissatisfaction (English equivalent: “Meh”?), attracting an average of 28,318 monthly searches.

Other terms in the top 10 included “touche”, “ditto”, “caveat” and “Carpe diem” which, as anyone who has seen Dead Poets Society knows, is Latin for “Seize the day”.

(Daughter expressed an interest over the weekend in watching this 1990s classic movie, a fine combination of Robin Williams at his best, and handsome emerging talent such as Robert Sean Leonard and Ethan Hawke. “Fine,” I replied, “but – spoiler alert - bring tissues.”)

“These findings not only showcase our collective linguistic curiosity but also underscore the ongoing integration of foreign expressions into everyday life,” said Jakub Dubec at Localazy. I guess Brexit didn’t extend to our language – unlike in France, where concerted efforts are made to protect “le français” from creeping anglicisation (for which read: Americanisms).

Of course I don’t expect my builder nemesis to start quoting Latin from the scaffolding. That really isn’t meant to sound snobbish; different language levels fit into different scenarios, and we all adapt accordingly.

Something else learning languages taught me was to vary my lexicon in order to get more marks in exams. I carried this through into print journalism, I like to think to great success. Sadly, with the advent of online news, we seem to be going the other way thanks to the need to ensure your stories have the right number of certain words in order to achieve SEO nirvana.

It’s all a bit – consults Cambridge English Dictionary – “delulu”, if you ask me.