Fantasy of Working From Home
When I was commuting, I had a fantasy of working from home that included being in downtown Winslow during the day, drinking coffee at one of the coffee shops, and seeing all the people go by. Today I am trying it out, for an hour.
It is a beautiful fall day. There's a property at the end of High School Road that is filled with blueberry bushes. You hardly notice them most of the year, but in the fall they turn a vibrant red that makes you thankful to the person who planted them. Almost makes me want to write a letter to the editor of the paper.
I went to the post office just before coming here to Blackbird Bakery. There was a line going out the door. I waited for about a minute and decided I would try after having coffee.
So far, still no media today. I remembered to shut off the radio when I started the car. It is amazing how much pull it has over me. Part of me can't wait until I can dive in again. It feels like I would allow media to take upwards of 60 to 80% of the free space in my head. Why would I want to do that? Why would anyone? Why does everyone?
I'm sitting in the bay window -- a great place to people watch. This is the time of day when you see the seniors out in force. An elderly couple just passed; each was using a cane. The gentleman was wearing a sport coat and slacks, but no tie. Most everyone else is in t-shirts and sweats. We're passing away from a time when people got dressed up to go out in public. I guess that makes me a little sad.
The sun is out today and the clouds are mostly gone. The weather has a bigger effect on me now that I'm untethered from an office job. The routine and artificial light provide a numbing sameness, and the benefits and pitfalls of weather are counterbalanced by the duty to stay inside. On warm, beautiful days, we would try to have meetings outside. There's not much difference between being confined and being tied to a post.
It is a beautiful fall day. There's a property at the end of High School Road that is filled with blueberry bushes. You hardly notice them most of the year, but in the fall they turn a vibrant red that makes you thankful to the person who planted them. Almost makes me want to write a letter to the editor of the paper.
I went to the post office just before coming here to Blackbird Bakery. There was a line going out the door. I waited for about a minute and decided I would try after having coffee.
So far, still no media today. I remembered to shut off the radio when I started the car. It is amazing how much pull it has over me. Part of me can't wait until I can dive in again. It feels like I would allow media to take upwards of 60 to 80% of the free space in my head. Why would I want to do that? Why would anyone? Why does everyone?
I'm sitting in the bay window -- a great place to people watch. This is the time of day when you see the seniors out in force. An elderly couple just passed; each was using a cane. The gentleman was wearing a sport coat and slacks, but no tie. Most everyone else is in t-shirts and sweats. We're passing away from a time when people got dressed up to go out in public. I guess that makes me a little sad.
The sun is out today and the clouds are mostly gone. The weather has a bigger effect on me now that I'm untethered from an office job. The routine and artificial light provide a numbing sameness, and the benefits and pitfalls of weather are counterbalanced by the duty to stay inside. On warm, beautiful days, we would try to have meetings outside. There's not much difference between being confined and being tied to a post.
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