There’s no place like home — unless you’re suddenly forced to work there.
Greetings, my new teleworking colleague. When I first started working from home, it wasn’t by choice, either. So, I have been in your fuzzy slippers.
Being “relieved of my duties” from my corporate job nine years ago allowed me to embark on a lifelong dream. I was suddenly, unexpectedly — and happily — a freelance writer. But one who can’t get any work done in a coffee shop. If I was going to earn a living, I’d have to be homebound.
For an introvert like me, the transition was easy. I hadn’t exactly grown attached to my cubicle. Or to the smell of burned popcorn and leftover tuna salad wafting from the break room.
I’ve been surprised to see posts on social media from people being forced to work from home during the COVID-19 coronavirus pandemic and wondering how to begin. To you, I say: with a happy heart. (Yes, you’ll miss your favorite co-workers. You may come to miss the endless supply of toilet paper you had access to. But there are upsides.)
And to your boss and your HR department, I ask: “How you gonna keep ‘em down on the farm/After they’ve seen Paris?’
OK, my attic apartment can’t pass for the Champs-Élysées, and neither can your makeshift home office, I’ll bet. But you get the idea.
As a freelancer, if I’m not working, I’m not getting paid. Wanting to keep a roof over my head is a great incentive to stay on task, but there are dangers in becoming too isolated. Allow me to help — from a safe distance.
Set a schedule and stick to it.
You know how, during the week between Christmas and New Year’s, we all forget what day it is, and it’s kinda nice? Well, that’s not what we’re aiming for now. You should know what day it is.
Make up your bed.
It takes only a minute, and it sets you up to have a productive day. If the bed’s unmade, who knows what else you might leave undone?
Remember personal hygiene.
You wouldn’t go into work without brushing your teeth, would you? Don’t go to your desk (or breakfast table) without taking care of it, either.
Get dressed.
Sweats count. But wearing PJs all day when your home also serves as your office can contribute to that I-don’t-know-what-day-it-is fog. It adds another sad layer to that, in fact, by making you unsure of what time of day it is. I know whereof I speak.
Get a footstool …
… or something that serves that purpose. I use a bolster to elevate my feet. It makes a difference.
Set a timer.
If you have some flexibility in your schedule (meaning, you’re not dialing in to a conference call every hour), you’re going to need to set parameters. I’ll set a timer for between an hour and 90 minutes and promise myself I’m going to work for that duration. No checking Facebook. No going down an internet rabbit hole — even if I need to consult Wikipedia during that time. When the timer goes off, I finish my thought and then take a break. When the break’s over, it’s back to work. I set the timer again.
Take stretch breaks.
Once that timer goes off, I stand up and stretch. I might get into child’s pose for a few minutes. (Say, that’s something you can’t easily do in your office.) That’s when I allow myself to check email (first), check Facebook and Twitter (after I’ve responded to email) and refill the ice in my water glass.
Don’t answer the phone … unless it’s your boss.
I still have a landline, and it rings throughout the day. It’s mostly telemarketers and robocalls. But even if it’s a number I recognize — unless it’s a client or editor — I let it go to voicemail. (Sorry, Ma.)
When it’s quittin’ time, leave it behind.
The danger in having one space for your home and office is that it can start to blur the lines between the two. You didn’t want to be at the office all the time when you had one away from home. You don’t want to be in one now, either.
Check your email and texts from your phone, if you need to. But keep regular office hours. Boundaries!
Be a team player.
You can’t catch up with colleagues by the water cooler, but you still have access. Connect with them. Maybe you’ve finished a project and have the “capacity” (to use the corporate parlance) to offer help.
This crisis will end. You will probably return to your office. And, you’ll appreciate your colleagues more than ever. Perhaps you will have even developed a few new productivity tools you can share with your team. But don’t say I didn’t warn you that, by that point, you may have grown attached to the simplicity of having a home that doubles as your office.
Now, go set a timer and get back to work.
Page Leggett is (practically) a Charlotte native and freelance writer/editor who loves theater, movies, travel and books and used to find joy in solitude — before it was forced on her. Find her on Twitter at @pageleggett.
This story was originally published March 18, 2020 at 5:30 AM.
