By Lisa A. Eramo
It's 7:00 am and my alarm clock screams "Rise and shine!" I can hear Cannoli (our cat) whistling like a referee who wants to begin a game, so I roll out of bed and don my office attire: sweatpants, a tank top (no bra), and comfy black slippers.
With coffee in hand, I begin my daily commute to work. It starts with ten trecherous steps across the living room floor--treacherous because I've yet to fully "down" my coffee. From there, I swerve around the dining room table to open the sunroom doors. It is here that I stop as if at a traffic light to enjoy the light pouring into the room. My only coworker (Cannoli) makes his way into the room to begin an agenda of purring, sleeping, and chasing dust bunnies. I take a seat at my desk and push the button that unmutes my phone. Goodbye to "do not disturb" (for now). Start up the laptop. Log in through five million websites to access my work-related files. This is how my day begins...working from home.
According to the United States Department of Labor, 2004 Bureau of Labor Statistics, there are lots of us who begin our days in this way...15% of the working population (20,673,000 people) to be exact. Nearly half of these individuals are actually paid to work at home as part of a contractual agreement with an employer or because they own their own home business.
Strange to think that there are so many of us, especially as I sit in solitude listening to the fan blowing and the cat meowing instead of the morning cubicle chatter. Although I haven't conducted any research yet, I bet the at-home worker enjoys his or her freedom for the most part, but also feels incredibly lonely at times. There are no lunches with coworkers, no coffee breaks to gossip about the latest new hire (or fire), no suprise donuts on the kitchen table.
But it's not all bad. I think about the power that we have collectively. Unlike the onsite worker, we have the freedom to wear pajamas all day, watch the Olympics "live" instead of taping them, blast our stereos as loudly as we want, burn some candles to set the mood, order Chinese for lunch. Heck, we could even bake a cake in the middle of the day if we wanted to.
Yet despite these advantages, I still find myself feeling lonely and bored at times. My mind (and body) need constant stimulation. And when I can't "see" my coworkers and witness all of the nonverbal elements of communication, it often leaves me feeling literally remote and removed. Perhaps my coworkers even unknowingly forget about me. Maybe posting a picture of my face on the overhead projector would remind them to include me on the agenda or prompt me for my thoughts during meetings. Perhaps a life-sized doll in my image would remind them to save a virtual seat for me in the conference rooms. Maybe they could hold a lunch in honor of me each week?
Does anyone out there feel the same way? When my laptop crashed this morning at 9 am, forcing me to waste two hours while anti-virus software scanned my files, I brainstormed some questions that I would ask at-home workers nationwide. Maybe the answers to these questions would bring me solace and comfort.
- Don't they hate it when people ask them whether they are more productive working at home?
- Do their laptops crash and printers jam so much that they have bookmarked their user help guides? Can they recite the help guides by heart? Do they have favorite chapters of those guides?
- Do they find it difficult to concentrate when passersby on the street or the garbage truck seem more interesting?
- Do they find themselves raiding the kitchen cupboards at all hours of the day?
- Can they predict when the school bus will round the corner each morning?
- Do they find themselves talking to inatimate objects (or pets) about the weather and politics?
- Are they on a first-name basis with the Dunkin Donuts cashier?
- Are they on a first-name basis with telemarketers who call and constantly mispronounce their names?
- Is a walk to the post office at lunch almost as exciting as front row tickets at Cirque de Soleil?
For now, I'm off to talk to Cannoli as we ponder the answers to these questions, share chocolate cake for lunch, and watch Michael Phelps win gold.
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