For seven months now, I’ve spent all day, every day at home.
I haven’t had a bon bon yet.
It’s true the tummy is flabbier, but it’s hours spent hunched over a
computer not lounging in front of daytime soaps that are to blame.
I am still writing this column. I’m still a Democrat freelancer.
But day to day, I am Sullivan County’s rare breed.
I’m the elusive work-from-homer.
The U.S. Department of Labor estimates 24 percent of Americans did some or all of their work from home in 2009.
But in 2010 in Sullivan County, I still find myself over-explaining just how I am part of the American marketplace.
“Wow,” they say, “you must get away with a lot.”
Or, “Wow, that must be the most fun job ever.”
Or my favorite, “But what do you DO all day?”
Short answer: I work.
From 9 to 5.
I get up in the morning, and I turn on my computer.
I do what my bosses ask. I answer their e-mails. I send a few to them.
I get a few back.
I research. I conduct interviews.
What don’t I do?
Spend inordinate amounts on personal calls.
Mow the lawn.
Play with my daughter.
Clean the house.
Any of these sounding familiar? Something like your day out of the house?
I may throw a load of laundry in the washer first thing and run down at lunch time to pop it into the dryer, but for every unusual portion of my working situation – the fact, for example, that I only just met my bosses face to face this past weekend – it’s exceedingly, notably, well, boring.
I’m just like you. I do a job. I get paid.
And I love it.
The world’s worst morning person, the folks at the Democrat laid bets on whether I’d even make it to the 7 a.m. scheduled induction of my daughter’s birth (I did).
Now I crawl out of bed and turn on my computer, and my stinky teeth and pillow flattened hair have no bearing on my abilities to research 49 people who won’t celebrate Obama’s 49th or which shots your toddler will need for pre-school. I write not just about the town board meeting for the Democrat but about love and health and raising kids for CafeMom’s The Stir.
And why do I do it in my jammies with my house falling to pieces around my ears?
So I can stay right here in Sullivan County, where that 24 percent of the population statistic is more like 1 percent.
Image via Pink Sherbet/Flickr