Working from home is like a living, breathing psychological experiment. Each day is spent treading in furry slippers along a thin line between the brink of brilliance and the constant threat of failure. And with no one else around, that daily battle is a lonely one. But as a wise man once said to me, “That, my dear, is the price of liberty.”
Below are all the thoughts that run through my mind during a typical day in the life of working from home.
7:15 a.m.
Another morning waking up to the sweet song of overachieving birds and hordes of children running amok in front of the private school across the street. Must be nice to love life that much this early.
7:30 a.m.
I groan at the sun illuminating my cookie-crumb-covered comforter. I should really find something less messy to munch on when I finish work in bed. So begins the morning routine of chastising myself for the next hour until I actually get my ass out of bed.
8:30 a.m.
OK, for reals — GTF up. Every other human in the world is already dressed to the nines, enduring FaceTime with difficult clients. All I have is a total distance of 20 feet to get from my bedroom to the living room. And let’s not forget to put on some damn pants this time—kids are still outside. Should I shower today? I probably should. I don’t think all the dry shampoo in the world could save this hair.
8:45 a.m.
I slog out of bed. Time for my 12 minutes of yoga as my diffuser sends Saje’s Brainstorm oil-blend vapors into my psyche. I wonder if this regiment actually enhances my cognitive thinking or if it just makes the living room smell less like the dirty dishes stacked in the sink.
9:00 a.m.
The thought crosses my mind again — should I shower today? Sigh. So much effort.
9:30 a.m.
I showered! OK, fine — body showered. The hair will have to wait another day. But I’m feeling so fresh and so clean, clean. New undies, who dis?
9:45 a.m.
I reward myself with much-deserved pour-over coffee , which is, without a doubt, the best thing since sliced bread. Especially since I got distracted with my first round of emails and just burned the shit out of said sliced bread.
10:30 a.m.
Awesome — all time-sensitive emails have been sent. Now it’s time to pump up some tunes and get started on the hard stuff. Luckily, no one is here to judge today’s ’90s alt-rock playlist nor the screeching sound of me singing along to this Toadies track — kind of like the scene in Tommy Boy when that Carpenters song comes on in the car.
11:00 a.m.
I stare blankly at my to-do list containing a seemingly endless number of things to do. Must focus. It would probably help if my workspace / dining-room table wasn’t a clusterfuck of papers, mail and other junk. Better get on that. Here’s a copy of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up — gonna go ahead and add that to my Amazon cart. Ooh, look at this cute teacup set.
11:30 a.m.
Back into the flow of things, finally. Well, aside from the insane drilling noise. Did I know the locksmith would be here today? Prolly forgot. OK, this kinda sucks. Might as well stop for a pee break. I turn to the right only to catch Mr. Locksmith’s eyes like a deer in headlights. I slam the door shut — should probably remember to do that when other human beings are present.
12:30 p.m.
All right, it’s about time I finally step foot into the universe beyond my apartment walls. Must get more coffee.
12:45 p.m.
Man, Blue Bottle is pricey. I should have just made more at home. “Hey, didn’t you used to come into the other location in SOMA?” the barista says to me, startling me with human interaction. “Well, you look great!” I look down. Yup, this is definitely the third day in a row I’ve worn this stained hoodie with these yoga pants. But since I’m already out in public, I might as well grab a turkey sandwich from the deli guy. At least he never makes eye contact with me or smiles—like, ever.
1:30 p.m.
Nothing beats sunbathing on the roof while I edit tons of copy. A little lonely, but at least I have Dillon up here. This one-footed pigeon is kind of like having a coworker.
2:30 p.m.
Oh, how I love the echoey pop of a wine cork. Like a bustling airport terminal, the drinking laws of society need not apply here. And where are the potato chips? Did I seriously inhale the entire bag yesterday?
3:30 p.m.
Phew. Last Zoom meeting of the day. I roll my eyes off camera to the same clichéd jargon spewed by everyone trying to prove their worth to the boss. “Key objectives” and “action items” for the win. Thankfully, I can just shut down video and audio and have a quick bathroom break. As the rapid flush of water circulates the toilet, my phone’s screen lights up with a notification—“Muted by host.” Oh fuck.
4:30 p.m.
Writer’s block is such a drag. Literally, what are words? I glance at the microwave clock only to realize that I’ve stared at the blank Word doc for nearly an hour. I let out a long exhale as my gaze slides left to the stove. Wow, that thing is filthy. I should probably go ahead and take care of that.
5:30 p.m.
I’m the first of my friends to arrive at happy hour—again. As I’m nearly done with my first cocktail, they begin to file in, and chatter about office dramas ensues. The boss has been super-crank this week. A colleague threw so and so under the bus. Basically, everyone needs a raise. Suddenly, all eyes land in my direction, awaiting my contribution.Several seconds of silence go by before I offer “That disabled pigeon was on the roof with me again today.”
9:30 p.m.
Home sweet home and back to the grind with my laptop as I get comfy on the couch. So much left to do. Why would I ever grant myself permission to be social? But I guess a little Netflix as background noise won’t hurt.
12:30 a.m.
Woke up face planted to the couch cushion with bits of drool crystalized at the corner of my lips. Well, I guess that’s all for today. Sweet dreams, me.
Hey! The Bold Italic recently launched a podcast, This Is Your Life in Silicon Valley. Check out the full season or listen to the episode below featuring Hunter Walk, investor and former head of product at YouTube. More coming soon, so stay tuned!
