Working from home is a sacrifice we can all enjoy
My Sentiments Exactly
We’re not talking about it.
Okay, we technically are. But I’m not mentioning IT, specifically. Well, not by name, expressly. This week, anyway.
Not because I’m not taking it seriously. I am. Boy, am I.
It’s not because I’m not scared. I am. Man, am I.
It’s not that I don’t worry almost every second of every day I awake on the third rock from the sun it could really hurt someone I love. In particular, that someone I love more than my own life. Do I have to say it? Fine. I don’t want it to happen to Kyle Donald Fernando Kimerer, aka, my favorite human.
I don’t want it to happen to my little Mum, my big bro or sis.
And not to that cute boy I married 25 years ago, the one who has to keep going to work every day when most other earthlings are exercising their God-given (and government-driven) work-from-home option.
To be clear. I’m terrified to my core about this unprecedented calamity that’s befallen my planet, a’ight? And I wish it would not hurt anyone — and just disappear.
So for the next few minutes, I’m going to make it.
Before you launch into a “Don’t make light of this, you big dolt!” tirade, just hear me out.
We all know it’s bad. Shoot, I can’t even attend Mass — the one hour per week I’m absolutely at peace — to decompress about it. I do NOT like that I cannot go to church.
In fact, I don’t like not being able to go into work. Yeah, I know, I’m weird like that.
What can I say? I love my new job. Plus, I don’t feel the need to cook, do laundry or wipe down the floors when I’m in the office. Well, maybe the floor thing. I digress.
The point is, there’s still joy in life. There are still good things in the world. And there is still, occasionally, something to smile or laugh about every now and again.
Like, the fact that probably half of America is attending work daily in their sweats … or pajamas … or maybe even pants-less if their call-in meetings are basic FaceTime-type scenarios?
Picture that and try not to giggle.
Not laughing yet? How about when you envision your boss taking his lunch break by Jazzercising in a TikTok video? Or your CEO licking her soup bowl after lunch clean because she loves her broccoli cheddar THAT much?
Maybe some of us can sneak in a catnap instead of taking a meal break — and maybe we have bedhead the rest of the day?
Of perhaps there are those of us who don our 1980s leg warmers and rock out to “Flashdance / What A Feeling” to smack us out of our mid-afternoon slump?
Maybe some of us slurp up a fourth cup of coffee or sneak a third Chips Ahoy — or the rest of the family-size bag of Doritos — under the veil of no judgment / secrecy since we are working from our kitchens, bedrooms and basements for the time being. Ain’t nobody here to see and judge us, you dig?
And, as you sit there pondering whether I’m the weirdo who chomps down copious amounts of snacks, overwires herself with caffeine or busts out the pastel bodysuit and matching wristbands from 1987 … smile.
Because we are going to make it, my friends. So let’s all send up a prayer for those most in need right now — and maybe for those of us whose nap-matted hair could use a little heavenly help, capisce?
— Kimerer is a columnist / blogger / human praying for the quick end to you-know-what. Check out her blog at www. patriciakimerer.com