Stories. Not a blog.

I've been working from home for three days now and I kinda hate it. I know most people who work—and who don't already work from home—hope and dream and pray and wish for the opportunity of finding a good-paying job that gives them as much flexibility as mine does.

And believe me, I'm very happy and thankful and grateful for this amazing and wonderful opportunity (that will end sometime in 2022 once my company decides to bring everyone back into the office) but if I'm being 100% honest, I really hate that I don't have a morning routine anymore.

Before I was allowed to work from home I would get up at 6:00 AM, I would read or write for a little bit, and when 6:30 AM hit I would haul my punk ass out of bed and I would hop in to the shower. Twenty minutes later I would be out and fully dressed (in jeans, a pajama shirt and a cozy sweater), and I would spend the next 40 minutes chatting with my family, eating breakfast in unrivaled peace, and, every now and then, reading or watching TV. Once 7:45 AM hit I would walk out the door and make my way to work; (pleasantly) enjoying the sunrise as I traveled past the bougie million dollar homes on Summit Avenue and the mildly pathetic “hustle and bustle” of downtown.

Every now and then I would take the bus home and while waiting I would see people going about their business; enjoying the sunshine when the weather was nice or trying and failing to protect themselves from the cold when the sky was covered in clouds. I would pass close to Xcel Energy Center, the Dorothy Day homeless shelter, Rice PARK, Saint Paul Cathedral, and a bunch of cool restaurant and indie shops that sell yarn, clothes, food, baked good, and home decor.

Coming back home felt wonderful—a reward for having worked for 8+ hours—and getting into a nice pair of pajama pants, throwing my bra to the wind (excuse the explicitness with this, but this is one of the many things that gave me joy when I got home), reading a good book, catching up some news, and then sitting on my computer to work for me (on my writing, if I'm gonna be more specific was amazing.

At night I would prep my work clothes, pack a lunch, and make sure that everything I needed was in my bag. I would make an effort to go to bed early and I would prioritize my sleep above almost anything else. I would wake up bright and early at 6 AM and then I'd do it all again.

I know some of you might think I'm a very dumb and boring person for saying that I miss my morning routine but what can I say? I miss it. I really do.

Now I simply get up at 7:30 AM, I make myself breakfast and I eat as I work. I don't change out of my pajamas and I don't prioritize eating. I am stuck inside all day and by the time my “shift” ends I have missed the sunset. My “work station” is in my room and when the day ends it is very difficult for me to feel any sort of joy or reward for having worked because I am at home. I no longer get to ride the bus or see downtown or make impromptu trips to Target or the gas station or the pharmacy after work. I simply shut my computer off and I go straight to my bed. I open my door, I greet my family and that's that. My day is over and after a few hours of fucking around I get to do it all over again.

I've always wanted to work from home, but now that I have the chance to do it I am not so sure this is the right fit for me. When I am working on myself (my writing) I can sit on my desk for hours and hours and love every second of it, but working for someone else in the same place where I am work every day to make my writing dreams come true feels wrong. It feels like I am violating the sanctity of my work space and it honestly makes me really sad.

And believe me when I say that I am not a social person. I hate meeting new people, I despise small talk, and I have no interest in sharing anything about myself with complete strangers—unless it is through this humble (Not a.) blog of course! I am completely happy being alone but I do miss the office. I miss my huge windows and couch. I miss the tiny microwave that over (and sometimes under) heats my food and I miss walking around downtown during my breaks. I miss it a lot...

Tomorrow will be my fourth day working from home, so perhaps I just need to get used to this new “routine”. It might take a while before I begin to appreciate how “wonderful” working from home is, and maybe once I begin to accept that my work station currently works for someone else most of the day things will change. But again, only time will tell.

For so long I had hoped and wished and prayed for the chance to work from home and now that my wish has come true I—I don't know. I don't regret wishing for this opportunity (I am eternally grateful to God and the Universe for listening to my manifestations) but something doesn't feel right (quite yet). Maybe if I begin to look at the positives of my new arrangement I will begin to feel better. Overall this was a gentle reminder for me to be mindful of what I manifest. What I hope and pray and wish may or may not always be good for me in the long run.

Hope you are well.

Godspeed.

C. W.