Working from home would be so worth it…
When your dream was working from a home office, you questioned another’s sanity if they were presented with the offer and turned it down.
I thought my friend, Roxy, nuts. I told her, “You’re nuts.” She said, “Work from home, you’re crazy.”
Our views differed because Roxy had an actual office at a small business and liked going to her job. She also received a yearly bonus in the form of a check and not a cheesy jingle bell necklace that tied into a company marketing plan. Roxy’s husband was also retired. She wished to avoid suicide or murder.
I wished to escape employment by a corporation in a place referred to as the warehouse of the damned or simply, Hell. Hell offered hedonism to a handful of CEOs. The rest of us risked eternal damnation for the leftovers.
If presented with escape from Hell before death, I promised Roxy I’d take an honest look at the best opportunity ever.
- No Time Clock-I’d work with natural rhythms, morning person not weekend, holiday, or night of the living dead.
- No Commute-No sharing the road with women who removed curlers at stop lights. They made me insecure with my “why bother because I don’t make supermodel wages” image. And I could buy food instead of socking half my wages in the gas tank.
- No Dodging Gunfire-If an employee (me) was pushed over the edge, I’d run around yelling, waving my hands in the air, not an AK47.
- No Coworkers-No gossip, no backstabbing.
- No Ass Kissing-No compromising integrity for a promotion.
- Retirement Plan-Heaven, now that I could keep my moral principles.
- Be the Boss-If I came up with a stupid idea, I could choose not to do it. I’d reward a job well done and not with a lousy donut at Monday meetings.
- No Meetings-Meetings noted the corporations’ financial status and reminded the employees they had no financial status worth noting.
- Snacks and Liquor-Maybe I’d eat healthy snacks, not donuts. Who needed booze if you no longer worked in Hell?
- I’d be available when my family needed me.
- The Dog-She thought I was the greatest thing since rawhide.
- My husband’s not retired and shuffling around the house in his underwear.
- No Time Clock-Start time and quit time could become nonexistent. All I’d get done in a day was laundry which paid nothing. My family seemed to think laundry was my God given duty along with dishes, dusting, vacuuming, and yard work, which paid crap.
- No Commute-As in less body movement. I’d have to add an exercise program to keep my butt from puddling over the chair.
- The neighbors might call the police if I ran around yelling and waving my hands in the air.
- Be the Boss-I was easily distracted. Do I smell chocolate?
- Loss of Benefits-No difference, like I had any working in Hell?
- Snacks-Home would be a 24/7 all-you-can-eat buffet. The refrigerator held more than a lunch bag.
- The family needed me for the stupidest reasons like to referee “who ate the last piece of cake?”(Me, damn it.)
- The Dog-She might look at me like I was rawhide.
- No Dress Code-Low standards as in NONE. Any article of clothing would be fair game, torn, stained, flamingo boxers. I’d take on the appearance of an overgrown shrub. Instead of sweatpants, I’d wear shorts, even in winter, because of the warm natural covering my legs would acquire.
- Lack of Social Skills and Graces-I could see myself grunting at people and shoveling food into my mouth with my hands. The dog would fear me as the alpha pack member.
- Poverty-A former attempt at working from home (motherhood) netted me less money than what a kid made cutting the neighbors’ lawn.
Despite Sasquatch legs, nonexistent manners, and poverty, a home office would beat working in corporate Hell. I’d look in the mirror and be able to live with what I’d see.