working from home...a pictorial

I've been working from home since August, and while it was a huge adjustment at first, it's been relatively normalizing since. Of course, back then (when I didn't know any better) I promised myself I'd still do "all the things I do for work now." I may have even believed it, or at least pretended to. But, no, it started to slip.

First was the make-up application.  Not anymore.  And cute clothes?  Ha!  My poor beautiful work clothes are all lined up in the closet, while I alternate among a pair of jeans, some capris, and various tee-shirts.  No stretchy pants...yet.  No pajamas either.  With the make-up went the jewelry.  It's just hard to put effort into your appearance when no one sees you.

See how she's wearing make-up and brushed her hair and is dressed well?  This woman does not work from home!

I still do shower, though if my hair's a little greasy and I don't feel like taking a shower, then I don't.  Basically because there is no office full of people to notice that my hair could hold itself in a ponytail without the help of an elastic band.  

When people find out I work from home, I inevitably get some form of "How wonderful that you get to be home with your daughter all day!"  And I reply, "Actually, she goes to daycare."  And insert the awkward pause here because people find it odd that I stay home to work but I don't keep my daughter with me.  Truth is, these judgers have no idea what it is I do from home.  I am an oil and gas title attorney.  I read title documents to determine who owns what minerals and how much each person owns.  This requires me to read hand-written deeds from 1840, apply intestate succession and distribution laws to the facts, and write an opinion that is 100% correct.  I can't do that and entertain Britton.  Neither would turn out well.

Let's be honest - this woman is not getting any work done with those kids throwing Cheerios at her computer screen

Working from home always seems like a win-win when I have to get Britton to a doctor's appointment, or an emergency comes up, or I want to run an errand, like go to the post office, when it's not lunchtime and overflowing with people on their lunch breaks.  When Britton forgets her Winnie at home, I can take it back up to the daycare without "being late to work."  Britton gets more sleep in the morning, gets picked up earlier from daycare, and now spends over an hour less a day in daycare than she did when I worked outside the house.  No longer do I listen to traffic reports with trepidation - my commute to daycare is less than 5 miles away, and once I'm home I'm technically at work.

But..............it's not all sunshine and roses.  Because while I get a flexible schedule, I also no longer get work lunches, daily socialization, and the connection with other people who don't live with you.  Saying hello to Britton's daycare teacher doesn't count as actual human interaction (and neither do my conversations with Sadie the Wonder Dog).  

"Barb, this fruit salad is delish!"

So I inevitably rely too much on the hub or my sister or anyone who mistakenly calls my phone to give me an outlet for socialization.  I play music to distract from the fact that I don't hear another person's voice for nine hours, until I go pick up Britton.  When I actually do speak out loud during the day, it startles me.  This, coming from a person who used to argue in court all day long, and not so long ago.  

So I guess I'm still figuring out how it works.  And if it will work.  But for now, it works.  Just, please - if I start wearing stretchy pants, please someone stage an intervention, will you?