This week my coworkers watched me do laundry.
I’d love to say that the display of domestic prowess was intentional, but alas – no one has been begging me to demo my epic dryer lint trap removal skilzzz.
That’s how long it took me to have a visible snafu.
Seven Months of working from home while pretending to be a 9 year old during playtime, and a principle, Para pro, lunch lady and IT rep during school time.
Seven Months of plotting meal after meal after meal that people will eat and won’t get bored of.
Of fighting back the clutter that comes with ALWAYS being here. Of date nights that consist of sitting on the front porch with The Mr. like it’s the balcony of a resort, watching the neighborhood.
Of doing a bajillon different jobs all day, and getting up 3 times a night with the geriatric dog I am honored to be hanging with as he ambles through the darkening twilight of his life.
Of falling asleep with a glass of wine at like 7:15 and forgetting that the dryer is full of clothes that still need to be hung up and put away.
For 4 nights in a damn row.
And of constantly trying to squeeze one more little thing that COULD be getting done into a few minutes when you might be able to step away from your computer and listen to a call. And accidently hitting the camera button on Teams. And giving everyone a lovely view of you fighting to get the bin where you store the extra detergent down off the high shelf, while your coworker tries to IM you, but you don’t notice because it’s 2020 and the universe is not here for your dignity, silly insignificant little human woman.
(I didn’t notice until now – but I shifted away from first person writing that. Evidently I still need that distance from it.)
Also since 2020 – I totally lost it when I realized that I was the dumbass who was wronged by technology on a large call, and did what you should never do, and had a breakdown on the phone with my boss.
It wasn’t even about the multi-tasking really. Not when I thought about it more (and you KNOW I f*cking thought about it more. And more. And then also some more.)
It’s the vulnerability, I think. That they all saw me, trying desperately to just keep up with my own life, and kind of failing. I am a leader – they come to me with their problems (no really, it’s true!) When they ask how things are going with Jr’s remote learning, or my sister and BIL doctoring away on the front lines, or my M.S., I am supposed to project confidence and calm.
But I can’t.
Because it has been Seven Months.
It has reshaped the entire world. (If you feel the effects less or whatever you choose to call it, good for you – this probably isn’t for you.)
Here I am – every day – blessed to have a few people left around me who will let me cry over a really stupid video conference move one day, but make sure I can laugh about it the next day over Zoom happy hour.
Seven Months ago I would have probably written about this as a hilarious guide to Zoom Etiquette or something. Oh well. That Keri is down in there somewhere, hibernating I guess.
I will say this though – we are Seven Months in to this, people.
Let’s make a pact – if your coworker is making damn fool out of themselves on a call – how about a little throat clear or something to snap their ass out of it?
Seven months is a long time – we need some back up, yo.