I’m the opposite: I like working from home. I thought I would, and I certainly have enjoyed working from home for specific tasks in the past, but now I know that I have a preference for working from home, and I am capable of it, and I have no or few regrets about not going into an office.
I generally like my office mates. I do. But a number of them have odd habits I just can’t get away from and can’t complain about because it would be too Seinfeldian and I refuse to become George Costanza. For example: Who says “Om” instead of “Um”? That shouldn’t bother me, yet it does. Similarly, there’s one guy in my office with the strangest, fakest real laugh I’ve ever heard. And he likes to laugh. And he finds much to laugh about in the office.
Now that I work from home, I don’t have to try to filter them out. I don’t have to worry as much about the weather. I don’t have to sit at my desk if I’d rather be up pacing and talking to myself. Some of my best thinking is done away from my desk, after I’ve invoked a mental context switch, so being quiet and sitting still is harmful to my productivity. I understand why it’s needed in an office, but that doesn’t make it better.
Oh gawd. We have that spreadsheet. Okay, okay, it’s a list rather than a spreadsheet (but don’t give me ideas, please) - it lives on the kitchen noticeboard and it details the contents of the garage freezer and the 50 liter tub of dry and tinned goods, also in the garage. Has to be updated every time something goes into or out of those repositories.
Try living with Brexit - the 50 liter tub and the (now strategic) garage freezer have been up and running for a couple of years now.
Did I mention the space on top of the wall cupboards in the kitchen? Filled…
I learned that I would make myself a mask out of an old pillowcase.
Then I learned that I would wear a scarf my son bought me years ago which I’ve never worn before because it was a much better mask than the pillowcase one.
Then (shortly after 2) I learned that the scarf wouldn’t stay up.
Then I learned that I would put a scrunchie on each arm of my glasses, feed the scarf through the scrunchies, knot it in back of my head, and then (because it still wouldn’t stay up) I would safety pin the knot.
Finally, I learned that I would go out in public like that, and not be laughed at.
I learned that I do care about what the neighbors think. Since Friday, I’ve had a U-Haul trailer attached to my Explorer parked in the street in front of my home, thanks to COVID-19. Together, they’re too long to fit in my driveway without blocking the sidewalk, and in the street, I just feel like a bad neighbor.
The trailer is due back Wednesday, but I have no place to legally drop 600 pounds of scrap aluminum doors; all of our plants are closed and not letting most people in (it’s a miracle I could have these doors shipped to me).
I don’t generally log into Facebook, but when I do, it’s only for the neighborhood group, and I’m definitely not wanting to look at comments now.
Luckily, it’s a public road, and I seem to be clear as far as township regulations.
I learned that my husband’s shaky hands are not conducive to hair cutting.
But I learned that I could cut my own hair, starting with a #8 clipper attachment (the longest), and with each hair cut using a shorter one. I’m now down to #5. I don’t care what it looks like.
And I learned that it’s a lot easier to cut my husband’s hair than my own.
And I learned that being isolated with my husband and the cat is rather nice. We could keep this up forever.
I’ve learned that dreams where I’m being chased by people wanting my vial of Corona virus cure are not fun. Especially since the one who catches me looks like Danny Devito.
Aaaaacccckk!
I can make Nanaimo bars!
Masks improve my appearance by hiding my teeth; however, they then make me less attractive by making it more difficult to hear me.
It is possible to have a LOT of good story ideas while doing dishes.
I miss going to Toronto on the train.
On the other hand, when actually leaving the property, I feel exposed and even a little but vulterable.
I’ve learned that I am, in fact, able to grow a decently respectable-looking beard.
Two-plus months without a visit to the stylist, and having my hair made blonde, have shown me, as my roots come in, that I still don’t have any gray hair.
I learned I’m not in my 20s anymore and can’t even just sit up in my bed all day, even with my back against the wall, and not have any aches and pains.
I learned that those things I always called “bleach wipes” (Lysol or Clorox disinfecting wipes) we get at stores are actually made with ammonium-based ingredients. Glad I looked before I tried to reuse the container to make my own with bleach water!
I also learned that the proper way to wash your hands is kinda fun. At least, I like the part where you reverse your hands to do your fingertips, like this.
I’ve learned that it’s nice to get out, even if only for a bit. Even just a walk around the block can be a wonderful break from being inside all the time.
It also gets me away from my demanding cats, who have become even more demanding as I’m now home all the time.
I actively hide from my cats sometimes. Sad, really.
I’m overloaded with input. My girls, the pets, the grandkids. My brain is having trouble separating all these entities yakking their mouths off.
I forget what quiet sounds like.
We have discovered that our “preferred” brand of TP isn’t actually the one we like best. For decades we have purchased Quilted Northern Ultra. But it can’t be found. So when I got the chance to grab a new pack, the choice was between store-brand (might as well have been European!) and Cottonelle. Turns out that the sine waves embossed into Cottonelle do a bang-up job, resulting in decreased TP usage overall. Who knew? We are a Cottonelle family now, until someone perfects the TP version of a swan’s neck.
