While this is a serious issue - and yes, at least one of the articles is actually serious - I'd like to delve into the lighter side of our situation if I can, or rather the dark humour of it anyway. We've got months of serious ahead of us, and while I know there's also months of material coming my way, as an artist I hope I can contribute in some small way to keeping all our spirits up.
With that in mind, let's have some laughs and try to relax a little if we can. And yes, of course we'll be laughing at my expense. Why else would you be here?
It's kind of after that that things got a little...hinky, shall we say. For me, obviously. Everyone else seems to be pretty au fait with the concept and the actuality of working from home, whilst yours truly can count on one hand the number of times I've actually done it over my career.
We're not counting the writing. That's just me faffing about, with the vague possibility of getting paid for it, so it can't really be counted as work (yet).
To be honest, I still see the acronym WFH and read it as WTF. Which clearly doesn't help my case as I giggle into my coffee like a teenager while my colleagues blithely advise they'll be 'wfh today'. You'll be what today?? *giggle* *snort* *giggle*. Sometimes you wish you were more grown up, and other days you just deal with the traits you're given...
Anyway. With that in mind, here are some of the initial things I'm learning about this whole work-from-home experience. And it's not the productivity or the getting work done part I seem to be coming to terms with, it's, well, everything else...
Firstly, I'm still waking up at 6am. Which they say is meant to be good, right? Sticking to your routine? The problem with that is that I stumble from the bedroom to the kitchen, then the loungeroom, then back to the bedroom, slightly confused about why I'm not gaining momentum in speed like I usually do, as I need to the energy to get to the train station. Being that I no longer need to do this, my autopilot function has gone a little soft. Now, I just stumble around like a new-born foal for even longer, trying not to walk into things, letting the first sips of caffeine course through my system, until I finally locate my laptop.
Don't even ask me how long it takes for me to actually set it up on a flat surface for working on. That's another ball game entirely.
Then there's my work Mac. Yes, an actual Mac. Fully functioning, with all the bells and whistles. In my house. Wonders shall never cease, I say. However, have decided I must keep the work Mac and my darling, 15-year-old, alien-green, Sony VAIO, fondly nicknamed Ivy, apart. I can't see this ending well, and I can't risk fights breaking out where I lose connectivity altogether.
That being said, I may have the opposite problem; it'll be 9 months later (or would it be 3 for tech...?), a mini tablet will appear, and suddenly I'll be on the AI version of a Maury Povich paternity test.
Also, about that. With having 'work tech' in the house, I'm having to deal with a whole new set weirdness, stuff that I already dealt with years ago when I set up all my home gear and promptly never changed my routine ever.
Now I've got my Mac with an adaptor on it that lets me plug all sorts of little gadgets in, and has a cute little blue light on the side that lets me know it has a power supply running through it. Being that Mac's are made to be left on (someone told me this, still sounds dubious, but ok), the cute little light lets me know I can power up at any moment. Super cute! Super tech! Instant go, hurrah!
Not so cute? That light in the middle of the night. You don't notice it straight away, but roll over at 2am and it's like being in a sci-fi interrogation floodlight. I feel like I'm about to wake up to someone in a spandex jumpsuit asking me to take them to my leader.
I've learned to either power down or just turning the fucking thing to the wall, but it fared messed with my head for a good few nights before I bothered doing something about it. Moving right along.
Dressing for work has taken an interesting turn. I always like to look nice when I leave the house, it's just the level of casual-to-classy that varies. Now that I'm barely leaving the house, there's certainly a slight skew to my apparel. I'm doing pants all the time (zero stars, do not recommend), pretty blouses, and brushing my hair, but that's about it.
Given that I'm not client-facing, I've let my colleagues see my make-up less face on video chats more than is good for them, but given that the lighting in my room is lovely and dim, I've really started to appreciate it; my skin has never looked so good, albeit the whiter-shade-of-pale most people don't usually see. So, you know, checks and balances and all that.
Also. TMI warning; no bra after 3pm. Utter heaven.
I'd love to tell you there's some discipline around my eating and coffee-drinking habits, but we both know it would be a total waste of time, and given that I can barely control myself in the office unless carefully supplied with a packed lunch and snacks in advance, we can hardly expect anything more given I now have 24/7 access to cheese and caffeine at all times.
At least this way I'm supervised, grazing more even regularly (admittedly 50% of the time on comestibles that are small, easily-scoffed, dairy products), and generally only bouncing off my own walls and not into traffic. Small miracles, eh?
So to be fair, it's not all doom and gloom, and I'm certainly counting my blessings that I even have the option of working from home - rather than not being able to work at all.
It's just, well, I feel like the chances of further developing a lactose-intolerance and a fading ability to apply mascara may need to be carefully monitored. Creating romance stories based around the love-hate relationship between a Sony and a Mac need to be discouraged, and I'm pretty sure I should keep wearing pants, no matter how reticent I am on the issue.
In the end, all I'll ask is that you all keep me in your thoughts when you stride purposely to your home office, calmly turn on your laptop, and somehow start your day without a banged shin or a Dairylea cheese pod.
I need all the help I can get.