On any morning of the week a house moth on my wall will spy me sitting at my laptop, working in pyjamas. My deceased uncle Easy would’ve approved as whenever as a child I visited him on certain afternoons, he would always be in his pinstriped pyjamas; and I found this hilarious, especially given his name. For me Working In Pyjamas is the benefit and perk of WFH – working from home. (I’d like to say WIP but that acronym has already been taken.) These last three years my routine has been to get out of bed, take the dozen steps via the kettle to my petite desk wedged into a corner of the lounge, with a view to files neatly stacked on half of the kitchen countertop. Now this is assuredly my new normal, I’ve upgraded my pyjama sets so I have matching tops and bottoms. I’ve learnt that Homer’s famous words – clothes maketh the man – also apply to the apparel which others don’t see.
My favourite magazine The Week (doing the job for me of reading all the newspapers that I also don’t follow online) recently summarised an article written in The Times. The journalist had reported that, despite early studies showing that WFH would increase productivity, newer data shows significant decline across sectors. Apparently in Britain employees spend on average 1.5 days a week at home, which is more than any other rich country apart from Canada. Before dreaming up In The Square, I worked in different types of offices over many years. I’d conclude that productivity depends on the individual and that just as, for example, dream homes can help to make us feel better, we can also feel crappy in our ideal environment.
Twice in my life I’ve been offered part time office-based work and ended up telling my employers how many hours I should work and when it suited me to be at my desk. Each time, following my suggestions, those employers were sceptical until they saw my speed and accuracy. In one of the jobs, after a couple of months of learning, I realised I could finish my workload in one day instead of two and the result – happy employer for being able to pay me less, happy me for getting pay rises more easily. Of course I would have got more dosh for slowing down and working for two consecutive days, but experience had taught me that time is worth more than money when you’re doing work just for money.
On the second occasion I fixed my hours to suit the me that used to be an early-riser and my boss was able to make desk sharing work for her. This arrangement meant that for half my half day (that time I reduced my hours from eight to five) I worked alone in the office block. However my employer could trust I was doing my job because, apart from the proof of projects being completed, my honesty betrayed that I loved what I was doing.
Nowadays what I like about WFH is how I can mix ‘n’ match work and domestic chores. When I need a break from the screen, I might do the dishes. Need to get my butt off my chair, then I’ll water the plants on the balcony. Of course, there must be loads of people who are better off in an office, especially if it provides free heating, air conditioning, ten varieties of tea, ice creams in the freezer etc. And as for quality office furniture like ergonomic desk chairs – sitting in a real mcCoy I bet you can make fantastic transactions. The best I can do at home is stand when I need to be assertive on the phone. For inventiveness, I’ll go to the sofa, close my eyes and relax, even as out in the street there’s endless drilling or pipes clanging. I survive that noisy nuisance by turning up the radio.
At times WFH makes me feel like I’m in solitary, so I try to stay in harmony with the world beyond my lounge. That’s how come, unless someone specifies, I never call before 10am, which I’m guessing is when the first office-based hot drink may have been consumed. If I send an email on a Sunday, my opening line is – “You may only be seeing this on Monday…” As much as I sometimes have nothing better to do on a Bank Holiday but work, I wouldn’t dare to send an email then because I reckon others, like me, are constantly checking the envelope icon on their phones and it would be so sad if we ever lose precious time out just because it’s so easy to communicate.
The main downer to WFH is being alone. When I was office-bound I made friends with my office-mates and years ago at one company in Tel Aviv we would eat lunch together at a dining table that could seat a dozen people. We took it in turns to make a big salad with the vegetables that the company provided and shared other dishes that some of us brought from home. Truth is when you’re PA is a piece of paper with lists of what you could, should and must do, you ought to keep connected for your sanity. I’ve sort of solved this need to be part of a live team by going, almost every day, round the corner to Belsize Village with my reusable coffee cup. Thanks to the nature of independent cafés, those lovely staff behind their counters, greet me warmly, ask if I want my usual and sometimes we enjoy a friendly exchange. Business owners, some of whom feature in the magazine, might be sitting at their pavement tables easing into the new day or also out getting a hot drink. Glad to report, however, that nobody has ever commented when, on rare occasions in the winter, I might be wearing jeans with a pyjama-like top.
