A Journey to the heart of an impromptu teleworker in the midst of a global pandemic
As the sun arches toward noon on an April morning, I squint my eyes a little tighter, focusing in on the one, lonely monitor of my laptop. Minimizing the windows needed to provide a peak into each application required to accomplish my given task, I pause here and think “note to self: buy a real mouse.” Not halfway through the day and I have resolved that this touchpad just isn’t passing muster. It must go.
But beyond these small adjustments and ideas on how to enhance my provisional home office, there is an appreciation for this portal into my former life and, thankfully, my current livelihood. It provides a foothold of normalcy in a brave new world. And in these unfamiliar times, I cling to my work as a means of order in the midst of the chaos of a suddenly different reality.
It strikes me now that the virus is not the only novel thing about this pandemic; its social impacts are also strikingly extraordinary. From an economy on pause to a freeze on socializing, life is vastly different from what is familiar and what we have come to expect. For me, it’s the domestic context to the hours spent working remotely that confirms that times have changed.
As I type away in the corner of my room, the sounds of a backyard fountain’s trickling waters carry through an open window and with it laughter from two daycare-liberated toddlers, the strings of a stand-up bass vibrate beneath my feet as an eighth-grader practices her art, and the outbursts of a basement-dwelling 2020 graduate are barely audible as he undoubtedly schools some n00bs on a game I’ve never heard of. And why not? School’s out for summer, is it not?
Indeed, this is not the traditional soundtrack to which I have sent out work emails and polished off reports. In fleeting, harmonious moments like this one, I do like this new compilation. Although there are also moments of discord in which technology fails or a band of barbarians storm the gates of my fortress in which I once again yearn for the compartmentalization of yesterday. But I try to remember that we are all adjusting. This too shall pass.
But for now, I try stay in the present and focus on this new workday composition in which the tones of incoming emails mix with the sounds of nature and family, knowing that this new reality is also ripe for change. Surely, the old adage “the only constant in life is change” feels more true today than perhaps ever before. Luckily, we humans are a species famous for our ability to adapt to changing environments and overcome new challenges, finding ways not only to survive but to thrive through times of adversity. It is in thoughts like these that I find solace and optimism in the face of trying times, as I hope you do.
Written April 2020
Strangeland Journal 