Home Office Aversion

it's a metaphor, I think

mural detail by Explicit Citizens in Setúbal, Portugal

I’ve learned or (re-learned) so much about myself during this pandemic. Not all new things, some are reminders that got buried in the sleepwalk of lockdown life. 

When one moves abroad, you think that all the things you imagined doing would start to happen on foreign soil (speaking for myself, but maybe you can relate?). And in part, this is true, especially if living abroad is something you’ve always wanted to do, and now that you’re doing it, that’s at least one thing you can check off the things I’ve always wanted to-do list.

With the dramatic difference in housing costs, all costs, really, I thought what I wanted in a home would change now that I could have more than I had Stateside. I imagined I’d upgrade my abode by having more square footage and fancy-normal things like a/c and a dishwasher (I used a dishwasher for the FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE last year. True story. I like it, but forget I have it, so I rarely use it.).

Isolation Prompts Reflection

The process of living in, and barely leaving, this flat in pandemic times sparked deliberate reflection about what works for me in a home, instead of what I thought should, and I’ve come to some conclusions. The first conclusion is that even though I make a conscious effort to banish the idea of should from the way I live, that little bugger should is tenacious! I did some should-ing that I wasn’t even aware of choosing and setting up this apartment. 

But more importantly, the main conclusion I came to is this: I don’t like my home office. I don’t like home offices, in general. 

Okay, okay! I know, I take a week away from writing this letter, and you’re thinking, “Geez, that’s all she could come up with—she doesn’t like her damn home office?!”

I recognize the privilege of living in a two-bedroom flat where one of the rooms can be a dedicated office. I haven’t always had this luxury, typically residing in one-bedroom or studio apartments. And this flat is truly sweet—comfortable, clean, calm—so many things about it are perfect; that’s not the issue. It’s just more apartment than I need as a person who lives alone.

About That Office

My office is tidy. It’s sparsely furnished with a desk and chair (from the dining table—I resisted buying yet another chair), a coat rack, a built-in wardrobe, and a trifold mattress for the occasional guest, which doubles as a meditation cushion. In fact, I’m writing to you from the office now, and sometimes I like it, but more often I force myself to work in the office because it’s there and I should use it—right?  

There are many reasons that a separate office is ideal: a division between work-life and life-life, a place to store work stuff that ISN’T the dining table, and space—we all like extra space, right? 

I like space, but I don’t misconstrue square footage with space—the way a flat is laid out is more important to me. I’ve lived in small, open, uncluttered places that feel spacious, despite their diminutive footprint. Those have been my favorite places. Bigger (to me) homes feel drafty, whether that’s an actual draft or lack of coziness. 

So, what am I going on about anyway? 

Here’s the takeaway: it’s not so much that I don’t like the room where my office is; it’s fine, even lovely as rooms go. It’s that I bought into the idea that because I could have more room, I should have more room, even though I’m more comfortable in smaller spaces that demand less of my attention in cleaning, furnishing, heating, and using. I don’t want to use a room just because I feel like I should, so why have the space in the first place? 

Happy Work

I’m happiest sitting on the sofa, at the barely used dining table, or standing at the kitchen counter with my laptop—usually where I can see and be with Milo and not sequestered in isolation in a room with a personality complex.

And because I don’t work more than a few hours each day—some days not at all—I don’t worry too much about ergonomics. The last thing I need is a chair designed to sit in for 8-10 hours a day! Sitting more is not how I want to spend my time. 

Staying True

This brings me to the beginning of the essay and how I’ve been re-learning things about myself. When I stay true to myself, not wavering in the face of well-meaning friends or other influences, I make better choices that align with my needs and wants. 

And while this example might be a silly one, recognizing the superfluous office has kicked off a chain of related considerations. I have no idea if acknowledging this means anything more than what’s contained, here, but who know what it might lead to—I’m open to the possibilities! 

Your Turn

How about you? What do you own, or have you done—maybe for years—that really doesn’t fit even though you thought it should? Is it that SUV in the garage or the trendy clothing in your closet that’s not really you? I’d love to know!

GOOD LINKS

• Posting less, posting more, and tired of it all: How the pandemic has changed social media via Vox

• The Invisibility of Older Women by Akiko Busch As they age, women experience less public scrutiny—and entertain a wider set of choices about when and how they are seen. (I’m looking forward to her book How to Disappear: Notes on Invisibility in a Time of Transparency)

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