Sofa, So Good: Working from a Chaotic Home

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
The ankles and feet of someone on a painter's ladder

I’m working, but my mind is scattered and my physical surroundings are a nightmare. This is not the place to describe the unique hell of a redecorating project where everything is in boxes, piles or under dustcloths; floors are paint-and-plaster-dusty; deadlines are consistently missed; explanations are sketchy; and it emerges that the 9-5 by which I have structured the past 42 years is a concept entirely alien to our decorator. As is the concept of Monday-to-Friday. Hence the total absence of workers today.

Lounge? LIVING Room?

Throughout the pandemic, I managed the 9-5 quite effectively from my home-office alcove. Small, cramped, but entirely within my control. Take me out of my alcove into another room in which one can neither lounge nor live comfortably, and I am like a fish out of water. I need two small coffee tables – but the tables are glass – the mouse is ill-at-ease on them. And I’m accustomed to using a mouse rather than the trackpad. Makeshift arrangements make this just about workable. I have carved out a whole morning of peace and solitude, and by and large, it’s working.

Yes, it’s stressful. And I’m not alone – I live in Testosterone Towers, where habitual stress is bad enough, but habitual + domestic upheaval stress makes things extraordinarily difficult, and my caring responsibilities are challenged to the max. (Remember, I said that I’m annoying? I am reportedly becoming more annoying by the day, and I don’t seem able to help myself inadvertently doing it. It’s not that I don’t try to be good, either.)

Can I blog about research today? No, I don’t think I can. I’ve just ordered all the tech I need for my forthcoming oral history project – that felt like quite an achievement! – and I have just received a wee book that a kind Ancestry-user sent me about their ancestor, who happens to have been the brother of the professor I was researching in my post-Christmas idleness. The best thing I can do this morning is to read it from cover-to-cover, then get back to compiling a repertoire list that I started last night. (My need to occupy the lounge – ha! lounge?! – may be keeping Testosterone Towers from their daytime TV, but last night I found I could perform activities like searching the British Newspaper Archive quite effectively, whilst ignoring the TV entirely, happy in the knowledge that Testosterone Towers is not being inconvenienced at all.)

I saw an academic event on Eventbrite that I’d have liked to sign up to, even if it’s a non-working day. I dare not sign up to it. I can’t imagine the redecorating being finished by Tuesday.

My apologies for moaning. Maybe things will be better by this time next week!

Image by Kris from Pixabay

Distractions!

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

You know what it’s like, working from home. The Plus: surrounded by all your books and papers, and the kettle just ten feet away from your desk. The Negative: trying so hard not to get distracted by – well – STUFF! No-one has ever suggested I have ADHD. But maybe I have? Take this morning. All set to start on time, I set the washing machine going, and make a cup of tea.

I’ll need more teabags in the caddy, I muse. But I manage not to go and get them. I’m only working this morning, so I want to get on.

Mug in hand, I read my emails and start checking train times for a lecturing gig.

A family member drifts in. My home office is in an alcove off the dining room, on the way to the kitchen. Ah, well. (They’re going out this morning anyway!) I adopt a friendly, interested but BUSY demeanour: (let’s call it FIbB).

Continue what I’m doing. Train times sorted, email written, and on with the lengthy article. To be accurate, on with a wee literature search to back up an assertion in the lengthy article.

The washing machine beeps to say it has stopped. I ignore it, and work on.

Another family member drifts in. Only a couple of minutes … FIbB face again.

Progress is being made. Suddenly it’s time for elevenses, so I think I’ll just hang the laundry out …

The blinking drain outside the kitchen has blocked! I am remarkably good at unblocking drains – it’s a dry day, and I’d better get it done – it barely takes ten minutes – otherwise there’ll be another overflow next time we use the washing machine OR the dishwasher!

As I stand out there, sleeves rolled up, the first family member reappears, seems in the mood for chatting. FIbB face doesn’t work so well out in the garden, apparently. I suppose I don’t look busy in the same way as when I’m at my desk.

In my own defence, I did spend another three extra hours working later, so my conscience is clear, and I’m happy with what I achieved. I remind myself that working on campus isn’t without its interruptions, either – just different ones. And had I been on campus, that drain would still be blocked – but I might not yet know about it …