I had to go and work in an actual real office today. It was noisy, it was too hot, I had to spend money on my lunch rather than wandering downstairs and raiding the fridge, I didn't have a computer so it was like 1963 - it was awful. I missed my eyrie, and my dog, and my autonomy.
It's the latter, for me, that's so crucial. I worked in offices for years and years and it took me forever to realise that maybe I didn't have to do that any more. I still work in an office, so maybe that term is misleading, but probably you know what I mean. I still get up every day at much the same time, I still get to my desk at much the same time, I still knock off at 6 or thereabouts - but now I set the agenda. I don't have to spend the day in pointless meetings. I don't have to eat Pret a Manger sandwiches unless I want to (which I don't). I don't have to put up with other people's bad habits and flatulence and smelly feet/lunches.
Sometimes it gets a bit lonely up here all by myself. There's no water cooler chat or collective moaning, or impromptu beers in the evening. I have to pay my own taxes, rustle up my own clients, organize my time effectively and resist the lure of the shops. But all of that is fine. Even low-work periods are fine compared to the thought of going back to the 9 to 5. Maybe one of these days I'll go back to being an office worker and I"ll have to swallow my pride and my words and my hat. But I"m going to try not to let it happen - because up here in my eyrie I feel free.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
why were you in an office and who made you go?
ReplyDelete