As we talked, I reflected on the emotionally distraught poems I authored as a teen, the short story I wrote in high school, and the "mom blog" I started 247 years ago to chronicle my experiences as a mother. I suggested that she read my blog, and she suggested that I get back to writing, even for an hour, once a week. And so I'm back. At a time when blogs are out of fashion, and most of you no longer care about the shenanigans of my children (don't worry, you will), I am back in saddle, playing catch up on four years of stories, four years of memories, four years of traumatizing the next generation.
Given that our Governor just issued a "shelter-in-place" I am about to get reacquainted with the family I have worked so hard to avoid over the last four years. Like many other families around the globe, we will pretend to enjoy all of our time together by using social media to share both overly glossy family photos of us in the wilderness, as well as pictures of baked goods that magically manifested with no dropped eggs and no burnt fingers.
Don't get me wrong, I am grateful, and I take neither my health nor my family for granted. However, I am also painfully aware that the shrinking of our universe is making many of us scared, uncertain, and uncomfortable. And fears about about isolation and mental health are real. And often out of our control. For many, the road ahead will be long and potentially difficult. In the meantime, many of us are navigating changes at a much more basic level, like counting toilet paper squares, and stockpiling wine, and working from home. Yes, working from home. With a husband, two kids, and a dog. And so.many.snacks.
I have been telecommuting for exactly 4.7 hours. During that time, my children crashed two video conferences, my colleagues had the pleasure of watching me threaten both of them with their lives if they didn't stop interrupting, and then Clara threatened to pour milk on me if I didn't immediately get her a bowl of cereal. Things are going swimmingly.
And so I end my re-introduction to you with a few humble recommendations for those of you muddling through your career from your kitchen table.
- Consider using your car as a home office. My laptop fits beautifully on my dashboard...and I can lock my children out of my car much more easily (and legally) than I can my house.
- If you work for government, day drinking is still off the table. If you're going to bring a copper mug to our "meeting" I am going to assume it's not water.
- If you're going to telecommute, be mindful of your camera. Yes, I can see you didn't comb your hair today. Yes, I can tell you're not wearing a bra.
And a few even more humble recommendations to myself, now that I am forced to look at my own reflection for every work conversation.
- Resist the urge to keep talking with my hands. No one is going to replace my laptop if I knock it off my own table.
- Anti-frizz serum, add it to my COVID grocery list. Why didn't anyone tell me that I look like I got electrocuted?
- Buy a better house. Or better furniture. Or at least clean up the office so no one knows how trashy I am.
- Children, reconsider my decision to have them. They are loud. so loud. And way less charming than I thought they were.
- Those 20 pounds that weren't a priority, yeah, they should be. The double chin situation is strong. In related news, consider Botox, a face lift, or maybe a just a paper bag.
Here's to rekindling old passions, refocusing old priorities, and to embracing a face that is currently made for radio!
