Thanks to the NATO conference in Chicago, I’m working from home right now. (But I wrote this post yesterday, just to mess with my head.) On a normal week, we’re allowed to work from home once a week, usually Wednesday. Working from home isn’t bad, I suppose, especially with my commute. Scarlet the dog is here to lie nearby, and the house is empty, so I can play my music as loud as I can. But I’d rather be in the office, chatting and working.
Yes, oddly enough, I like my coworkers. I like talking with them, joking with them, etc. At the end of the day, I can leave the work I do at work. I leave work most days smiling, and it’s not because of the work; it’s because of the people.
Something is lost when I work from home.
My day job before this one was work from home only. My boss was in Atlanta, and coworkers were all over the place. The only way to chat with them was Skype or the phone. So day after day, I sat at home, working, with some sort of TV noise in the background so things wouldn’t seem as lonely.
I wasn’t meeting people. I wasn’t really getting out of the house, because the work never seemed to end. And even when I was done with the day’s work, it felt like I could never escape work, because it was always only a few feet away from me. The day I ended that job was, to put it mildly, one of great relief. And the day I started at my new day job was one of even greater relief.
When I work from home now, it’s a reminder of those days. Sure, I don’t have to get too nicely dressed for work and I can work whenever I feel like it, but it’s more of a necessary evil.
So, dearest coworkers, if you ever wondered why I insist on coming in on days we’re normally allowed to work from home, now you know. It’s a little bit me, and it’s a little bit you … too. (Sorry, for those of you who get the reference.)