Archives for posts with tag: working from home

I woke drenched in sweat when the alarm went off. I’d already committed to working from home today, so I reset it and went back to sleep for another hour. I woke 30 minutes later, still drenched in sweat, but waking at a more comfortable point in my sleep cycle was nice. I’ve been down with a nasty head cold that first made its presence known late on Friday, with a hint of a tickle in my throat after an entire day of being generally cross about stuff without cause. I didn’t think bringing it back into the office (where I likely picked it up, let’s be real) would be considerate, particularly immediately before Thanksgiving. So. I’m home. Still fairly sick, but I think I’m up for working… mostly.

I pause to appreciate how fortunate I am to be able to work from home when I choose to do so.

Then I also pause to wonder what I’ll really be good for today, and to appreciate that it is a Monday, a day (on my calendar) that is short on meetings, and generally filled with updating workbooks,Β  slide decks, and preparing notes for meetings that occur tomorrow and on Wednesday. I think I’ve got this. πŸ™‚

…I haven’t started yet. LOL I’m still thinking about it. Sipping my coffee, and making the day as normal and ordinary as I can. This? This is my “commute”. πŸ™‚ Although, I may take out the trash before I actually start working, to feel the cold morning air, and really differentiate the work part of the day, from the non-work part of the day.

This cup of coffee is terrible. Is it me? Is it the coffee? Seems unlikely to be the coffee beans, themselves; they were excellent when I had coffee Friday morning. (Yesterday it was just pretty tasteless.) That means that 1. something wasn’t quite right with the preparation or 2. my sense of taste is altered by being ill, or by the symptom relieving remedies I’m taking to address that. Either way; something’s a bit “off”. My results, even with coffee-making, definitely vary.

My Traveling Partner has been sweet and considerate while I’m sick. I am pretty sure he’s sick too, although not nearly as severely taken by this particular head-cold. He’s worried aloud once or twice that perhaps I have the flu? Fucking hell, I hope not. 😦 He’s encouragingly tried once or twice to suggest in a hopeful tone that perhaps it’s just allergies? Not likely; I don’t have allergies on this order of magnitude, ever, really. I’m not particularly allergic to pollen, and those sorts of things, and can happily inhale deeply the scent of newly mown grass, and bury my face in flowers. (Aside from some “late in life” developments with food sensitivities, and bee stings, I’m largely allergy-free.) I kind of wish it were allergies… I could go into the office in good conscience, and tell myself this “drenched in sweat aching all over” feeling is… a coincidence. lol

The last two days has been fitful restless sleep (hard to sleep deeply when I can’t breathe), naps, drinking tea, water, chicken broth, and sitting around bitching about being stuck sitting around. Once or twice I’ve dragged myself out of the house on some errand that seemed important enough to warrant the effort. I’ve regretted each one by the time I returned home. I didn’t write, because my head was aching and full of snot, and I just didn’t have anything much to say that wasn’t 100% pure bitching about being ill, like a fussy child. So… yeah. I think you’ll get enough of that, here, this morning. πŸ˜‰

My attention to my surroundings is much improved today. I even feel mostly up to working a bit, in spite of every movement making me cough, and the house feeling like we’re trying to roast chestnuts using the furnace. lol If nothing else, I know I can begin again, and I know “this too shall pass”. My results may vary… but I get results. πŸ˜‰

 

It snowed enough night before last to set the record straight on winter in my area; it’s a thing, and it means business! I worked from home yesterday, and will do so again today. I’m grateful I have that opportunity. The unsteady, swerve-y tracks in the snow report that at least one of my neighbors is not so fortunate. Some people make the choice to brave the poor driving conditions. Some people have to. Some people think they have to. Some people just do.

Eerie pre-dawn sky, on a snowy day.

Eerie pre-dawn sky, on a snowy day.

I had worked out a strategy with coworkers. We planned how to handle the inclement weather together, in advance. It was efficiently done. We’ll do it again that way today, figuring since it worked yesterday, it will therefore work today. As reasoning goes, it’s not the best, but we’re starting there nonetheless. The days in question are different in small ways already… Yesterday, I woke at 4, before my alarm went off. This morning, my alarm drags me from a deep sleep with considerable reluctance, groggy, and struggling to wake. Yesterday, there was no question this was necessary, from the moment the day begin. Today, although our plan seems likely to be well-chosen, I didn’t cross the city personally, yesterday, and don’t realistically know what it might be like to cross it today. The portion of guesswork is larger, although I suspect I will have chosen wisely… It’s hard to be Β sure so early. Yesterday, my morning flowed smoothly although I wasn’t set up in advance. This morning, I am completely set up, but I stumble, often. I am having my own experience, and it varies. There’s probably a metaphor buried in all that snow.

I sip my coffee. Some things don’t change. lol

Today is a good day to approach each task with as much care as I did yesterday. Today is a good day to work efficiently, and to take care of this fragile vessel along the way. Today is a good day to give myself my undivided attention, at least now and then. Today is a good day to practice.

I woke to the alarm, and fell asleep again. It was a delicious extra four minutes of surrender, followed by the stern advisement from somewhere watchful in my consciousness that the alarm had actually gone off, enough to wake me. The world beyond the patio window is not-quite-blanketed in white. Yesterday’s evening snowfall is still with us. The parking lot is smooth, white, and icy. Checking the weather report and the public transit schedule confirms my choice to work from home is a good call.

My first peek at the new day.

My first peek at the new day.

My morning suddenly shifts, slows down, and my priorities adjust, as I wake up more. I’m working from home today. I gain 2.5 hours back in my day (usually spent commuting) and prevent the loss of 2.5 additional hours I’d have lost to the inclement weather (last night’s commute home was 2.5 hours, itself, instead of the usual 1.25 hours). I’m not even bitching – the walk through the snowy night was lovely, and the commuters on the light rail were fairly merry in spite of circumstances.

A hazy skyline on a snowy night.

A hazy skyline on a snowy night.

I smile in the darkness. I opened the patio blinds first thing to gaze out across the snowy meadow. The only light in the room now is the glow of the laptop monitor; I have not yet turned on any lights, even making my coffee in the dim twilight of a pre-dawn snowy morning. This moment is mine. Well…mine, and of course, yours, and even that of the raccoon who visited during the night, to check for treats left behind by the squirrel and the birds.

We are each having our own experience. Perspective matters.

We are each having our own experience. Perspective matters.

I sip my coffee thinking about the weather. I let my mind wander to “snow days” of childhood. We rarely stayed entirely home from school, but often school would start later. I lived in a different region. It snowed more often, and there was more, deeper (also dryer, fluffier) snow; people are more prepared for snow there, too, and this makes a difference to how well they cope, and how serious it seems. Here, in this community, even a small amount of snow causes real panic. The snow here is sticky, wetter, icy. The tendency toward warmer winter temperatures, generally, often results in brief warming sufficient to melt some snow, then refreezing everything as the temperature drops again (often with both changes happening during the same night). The result? We wake to a world glazed in ice. I have seen this entire city coated with an icy shine, every surface, every blade of grass, every branch, every lingering blossom. I have heard the somewhat bizarre and musical crackling and crinkling as every icy surface begins to fracture with the slightest breeze. It is a wonderland… a rather dangerous wonderland, actually, and people who live here often just call out from work rather than deal with risking their cars or their safety, and schools basically shut down if there is a flake falling. Last night, the train was crammed with commuters who, in frustration or impatience, or fear, parked their cars in the city somewhere along their commute and finished their trip home on public transportation.

I generally just go about my business regardless. I dress for the weather. I make my way with great care. I put on Yak Tracks, bundle up in my cold weather gear, even wear a winter base layer under my work clothes. This morning, I will work from home… Unless it starts raining, and the snow melts away before my eyes (which could, has, and does happen in this region), in which case I’ll quickly dress and head to the office. I make a point of extending my awareness to include compassion and sympathy for workers who don’t have that option, who will either lose a day’s wages, or have to make their way across the ice, through the traffic, to jobs that will be seriously inconvenienced by the call outs of coworkers. We don’t all have the same choices available to us. We don’t all make the same choices when we do. We are each having our own experience.

It’s about that time… if I were going to the office, I’d be pulling on my boots right now. Wrapping my scarf around my neck. Pulling on my hat, my gloves, and grabbing my hiking staff. Instead, I make a second coffee – it’s still more than an hour before I get started for the day. It’s early yet for squirrels or birds, and I check the feeders, refilling them before visitors of the furred or feathered sort arrive. It’s a snowy day, a tougher one for foraging I expect. I add walnut halves, pecan pieces, and pine nuts to the usual corn kernel-sunflower-peanut mix I put out for the squirrel. The winter suet feeder has a seeded block for winter birds looking for seeds, and another block with meal worms and such for birds looking for something different. The winter seed bell is all black sunflower seeds. The blue jays and red-wing blackbirds aren’t so picky, but many of the small birds seem very particular. I enjoy being a good hostess. πŸ™‚ I set up for the day facing the patio.

Today? It’s a snow day. πŸ™‚ Today is a good day to make the ordinary quite extraordinary. Today is a good day to enjoy the moment I’ve got. I think about winter weather and childhood snow days. I recall being told to bundle up, and to be careful out there. I sip my coffee and wonder how I can bring that same quality of consideration and care to all my relationships – and to the world.