The perils of working from home

I worked offsite in a home office as a real estate assistant for 17 years. Once I moved back to Montana I thought it would be great to work in a brick and mortar office again, surrounded by real people in real time. So I found a job I liked, then another one I liked better, then another one and finally settled on this one, Listing & Sales Coordinator for a small but high producing real estate team. If the above path sounds a little flaky, you have to understand the life of a real estate assistant. It's not for the faint of heart. As the market goes, so goes your job. You learn to balance doing the best job you can with the ups and downs of the real estate market and the idiosyncrasies of agents. Sometimes agents think they need help, when they really don't, so you sit around. A lot. Sometimes agents think they are ready to give up a little control to an experienced assistant. But they aren't. And sometimes you are just not a good fit for the agent and he/she is not a good fit for you. Real Estate agents are a complex and sometimes confusing breed of folks...but that's a whole other blog post.

So there I was, working happily in my cozy office with 1.5 assistants, ideally situated across the street from both a taco joint and Starbucks, when bam! Out of nowhere comes this wretched coronavirus, forcing me out of my office and back to my home office. So what's the big deal? I've done this before and it was fine. What's different now?

My adult children have lived with me on and off for years. They come, they go, they come back. I'm fine with this arrangement, in fact I really like it. There was a time when households consisted of several generations living under one roof and no one thought it was odd. I have a big house, there is plenty of room, and we all like each other. They have learned over the years that during office hours, I am not always a fun person. Sometimes I am downright cranky. Mostly, though, I am busy, venturing out of the office only for coffee or lunch or coffee or a cookie or more coffee. They have about as much interest in me working from home as they do in drinking coffee, which is to say none at all.

Enter my mother. Three years ago it sounded like a splendid idea for her to join our household. And it was and still is. Except. She does not understand the whole I'm working right now please don't disturb me, which is not a great surprise because she doesn't understand privacy at all. A closed door means nothing to her, a locked door even less. Someone working from home means that person isn't really working. Even with a closed door. Especially with a closed door.

A knock on my office door, which was closed and is now open
Me: yes?
Mom: are you working today?
Me: yes
Mom: all day?
Me: yes
Mom: from home?
Me: yes
Mom: all week?
Me: yes 
Mom: did you take a nap?
Me: a nap? No, I don't take naps during the day.
Mom: your door was closed so I thought maybe you were taking a nap
Me: no, I wasn't taking a nap
Mom: you could, no one would know
Me: I would know
Mom: then why was your door closed?
Me: I was working
Mom: all day?
Me: yes, why? Do you need something?
Mom: the dog wanted in your office
Me: he has the rest of the house to run around in, he doesn't need to be in my office
Mom: he likes to nap in here
Me: well, he can't
Mom: why not?
Me: I'm working
Mom: all day?

Did you ever read the book "If You Give a Mouse a Cooke?" Yeah, it's like that. But without the cookie.