|Penne pomodoro, anyone?|
Work from home shouldn’t be new to me – it’s what I used to do some years before I got employed. I lived through my smartphone and relied to its internet connection to do research and submit deliverables. Life wasn’t too complicated. In fact, I used to brag about it to my friends whenever they dread Monday on a drunken Sunday night. Because me, unlike them, have the luxury to sleep until late the next morning.
It’s been 15 working days since the elevator in our office building got busted (well, it’s always under repair but this time is the longest in my history of working there). Since I have myasthenia gravis and walking up the stairs to the 16th floor would literally be suicide, my bosses agreed that I should work from home. Yes, they’re considerate like that, and it sounds like a great deal. Until I discovered what awaited me.
Being able to save the money for my daily expenses is one of the sure wins in this setup. There’s healthier meals and less greasy stuff, plus, the cut back on sugary things is really huge. I can also have 5-6 cups of good coffee to my heart’s content and there’s nothing to avoid in the kitchen like unnecessary gossips and unwanted conversations. At no extra cost.
Battling against the daily monstrosity which is the Metro Manila traffic is another sure win of a work from home office babe like me. This is a total advantage, because I could use my supposed travel and prepation time to do other things like adding a few words to my perpetual WIP stories, or read a few pages of that book about porn stars I’m currently reading. It’s not like I need to shower and do my makeup before sitting in front of my laptop when I’ll be alone in my room, right? I could just be in my pajamas the whole day, for all I care.
|Satchmi is a cozy place to work, internet connection has a limited time amd the penne pomodoro is ridiculously price-y|
Although, the glory ends there – at least for me. Working in the comfort of my home is not comfortable at all. My mind and body are used to being at rest when I’m home, and my soul craves for sleep. Or read a book. Or add a few words to my WIP stories. Not to stare and type furiously in my computer, sending emails and reports. Plus, there’s a significant difference between when you’re given a project and you have two weeks to complete it so you’d sleep for ten days and finally work on it on the 13th day, and when you’re boss is hitting you up with emails and chats all throughout the day. Add the fact that there’d be times when you can’t explain yourself fully on issues if need be, despite your eloquence in emails or in phone calls.
Oh and yeah, the internet connnection. Yes. I solely rely on my smartphone to connect, and heaven knows I can be the most resourceful person in the face of the planet. On some days when workload is too serious, I’ll jump from one coffee shop to the next, maybe to the nearest Starbucks to me which is by the way an hour of commute because I live in the boonies, and be one of those annoying laptop people who prevent those who want to sit from enjoying their four-cheese flat bread and double tall hot caramel machiatto. I can be cozy in there for hours, fulfilling all my signed office duties while getting used to their classical music, defying the establishment’s sole purpose of making their place your second home. It’s just that, I can’t go to the washroom because the warning sign says to not leave my things unattended. Then I’ll go home, tired and consumed, and wonder when the elevator is going to be fixed because this whole set up is becoming ridiculous all together.
So, do you also work from home?