Almost 19 months ago, I left work on a Friday knowing that the pandemic was ramping up and things might be changing in the days and months ahead. I did not anticipate that when I walked out that day, I left behind my work world as I knew it--forever, in some ways. The building is still there, my office is there, but so much else has changed, from the people to the structure we'll be going back to. And that reality starts on Tuesday.
At the time, even two weeks away seemed almost impossible. Then two weeks turned into a few months, and a few months turned into one delay after another. Eventually it became clear our return was firmly indefinite, as our building was being used as a pre-surgical COVID testing site. As our remote status stretched through Christmas and into the new year, by that point things were chugging along fine and we all assumed that would remain the status quo through the summer until kids were back in school, which was officially confirmed as the plan in early summer. And then delta hit, and so did another delay. But now Tuesday is our target, and by all accounts it's happening. Seeing colleagues over the weekend made for a nice "whetting of the appetite", so to speak, but after this long wait, my feelings on this transition are way more mixed than I expected.
Working from home has been a roller coaster. I hated it at first. It didn't help that the kids were home and everything was worrisome and chaotic when COVID was still ramping up. There were endless unknowns and the limbo was daunting. It got a little better once the kids were back in school at least part time last fall. I had settled into the groove a bit more, figured out workarounds, and could focus a bit better. I realized that the casual wardrobe and more laid back mornings were nice, and I loved being able to switch over laundry or load the dishwasher in the middle of the day. It gave me more lunch options and a chance to pull out dinner meat midday, and provided flexibility for managing the kids' needs, from doctor's appointments and forgotten items to early dinners and days off. But over the summer it got harder again--not only were the kids here, but my work chat that had kept us all connected for so long was pretty quiet. It was very isolating, and things only got worse when a couple people left our team and then Craig went back to the office full time. Around that time they announced our return to work was delayed again, and it just felt like the lack of connection was going to do me in. But then the kids went back to school, which definitely had its perks but actually left me feeling more isolated than ever. Fortunately, around that same time I had to move my workspace for the new family heirloom desk, which meant I could now see the TV from my spot. I discovered that the TV made for a good companion to ease the isolation, and I managed to clear out a huge chunk of my DVR without it being a terrible distraction. That has once again made things a bit more tolerable, although admittedly I still find it harder to focus and really feel connected, so at least I know the office will help with that.
But since it became clearer that the return to the office might actually happen this time, I've felt my anxiety ramping up. How will I survive getting up at the crack of dawn again? How will I get dinner cooked before Jacob's 6-8pm practices? What am I going to eat for lunch and how underwhelming will it feel after 19 months of home-cooked options? Will I be able to keep my focus in the office when I'm so used to constant distractions? Will being there when only half the office is there (more on that in a minute) be super weird? Can I deal with people and being "on" all day again? Can I remember how to dress myself in more than just a t-shirt and jeans?
The good news is that we were able to elect up to two remote days, so reality will only hit full-on three days a week. I initially only opted for one, mostly because I disliked remote work and only wanted one day for easier access to Carter for therapy appointments. But now that we've gotten closer, my nervousness has ramped up and I'm probably going to opt for a second day, even if it's just to help me ease in a bit. The good news is I was able to get a second computer monitor for free through our local Buy Nothing page, so that will make things easier at home because my work is nearly impossible on a laptop screen, which was probably by biggest concern with a 40% remote schedule. I'm a little nervous about how it will feel to only have a portion of the team there on any given day. We'll have one "anchor day" where we have to be there together, but will it feel less fun without parts of the team most of the time? I worry about the dynamic and the weirdness of people not being there, even if they should always be available on our chat. As it is this is only a trial run through December, so who knows what will happen beyond that anyway. I guess I'll try to settle in but not get that settled?
I guess I'm feeling anxiety because I know there are things I'm not thinking about. With the sudden manner in which we went remote, I feel like I don't have a good grasp on how the two scenarios compare. Early on it was just survival mode, figuring out how to get through, so any of the subtle things that were good or bad sort of got lost in the shuffle of trying to function. And now it's been so long I can barely remember what some of it was like, or what pain points I'm forgetting, or what might actually be nice to go back to. It's amazing how almost 20 years of routine can be wiped out in a fraction of the time. Part of me wonders if I'll even be able to readjust given how mentally taxing the last 19 months have been.
When I see colleagues in person for the first time, sometimes it seems impossible that it's been almost 19 months. But it has been, and that's actually a really long time. I officially marked 6-1/2 years in my job today, and this remote period accounts for almost 25% of that time. That's crazy--it definitely doesn't seem that way, to the point it makes me wonder if my brain purposely blocked out the sensation of the passage of time to dull some trauma. The other day I looked at a pair of work shoes I bought right before COVID hit and felt a little guilty that it's been so long and yet they've barely been worn because I've lived in sneakers, flip flops, and slip-ons. Don't worry, I'll wear them a bunch with my jeans soon enough. Then I looked at my off-season wardrobe closet (some of which never moved to my main closet since this started) and realized that a bunch of stuff just didn't feel like "me" anymore. After all, I look like a whole different person with hair that's six-plus inches longer than it was last time I was in the office and wore those clothes regularly. I'm just not sure how all of this will feel because I can't tell what might have changed within myself over this very challenging time. It's a very strange sensation.
I am hoping that the partial remote status will at least maintain the illusion of a better work/life balance than I had before. I was very sad thinking about how my laundry days will be relegated to the weekend or how much harder it will be to schedule things like giving blood, but then I realized I'll still have a remote day or two where those things can be managed. I think it'll be enough to manage them, anyway. It's just going to take jumping in and trying it out to see how it goes. I feel like a lot of us are well-aware this isn't going to be a smooth transition, no matter how much it seems like it should be because we all knew what we were doing 19 months ago. We're all bracing for a bumpy ride ahead and hoping the flexibility we've been shown all along will be extended, at least while we're figuring things out, if not longer. It takes 30 days to start a new routine, so there should be no surprise if we crash and burn a bit early on.
I do hope that this transition ends up being a bit healing. I've wondered all along when (or if) life will go back to feeling some sort of normal, and this is really the last big step in that (aside from casting aside masks without worry, but that's a whole other thing). Maybe getting back to old routines will help ease some of the discomfort of this entire pandemic experience, but admittedly it's still scary. We're all asking our new selves to fit back in our old life, and there's a possibility that could now be like fitting a square peg in a round hole. We've all gone through profound changes and it's concerning to think we may have changed permanently enough that the old us doesn't work like that anymore. I'm not sure what the next step is if that happens--maybe therapy or some big decisions, neither of which I really want any more of right now. There's just a mental tiredness that I hope gets fixed, but it remains to be seen if this will be one step forward or two steps back.
If you'd have told me 19 months ago that I'd be freaking out about going back to the office, I'd have thought you were nuts. I guess the pandemic does funky things to people. But now it's less than a week away, and the celebration I thought I'd want to have upon going back feels a little exciting, a little scary, and a lot overwhelming. But first, seeing if it actually happens...
No comments:
Post a Comment