Linda McHenry
Sarah Smith joined me on the first episode of my podcast, The Writer’s Voice. Take a listen!
https://episodes.castos.com/5e6ccb9ab4cf97-55025247/Sarah-Smith-mp3-MR.mp3
Her latest book is Crimes and Survivors; you can learn more about it on her website at www.sarahsmith.com.
Nine years ago, I took the plunge and began a freelance writing business working from home. And when I say “plunge,” I don’t do so lightly. When you’ve spent 37 years working in sales, and owning three businesses, and teaching agents and adjusters insurance continuing education classes, that tumble is more like a nosedive.
In all honesty, I must disclose that I’m an introvert. Yes, I’m loud and shine in group settings. But I’d prefer to be in small groups or, better yet, by myself. Still, making the adjustment from talking to 50 or more people each day to only holding regular conversations with my dog and cat took an adjustment.
I’m sure I made 95% of the mistakes one can make when working from home–which is why I know what the three biggest ones are, and what you can to do avoid them.
My sister will back me up on this. Although she works in healthcare billing, and is an “essential” employee, she’s juggling working from home with spending a couple of days a week at the office due to the coronavirus shelter in place requirements of the state she lives in. At the end of her first day working from home–ever, she actually called me and volunteered that she was glad she’d followed some (not all) of the tips I’d shared. So, let me share the three she appreciated most.
No-No #1: Not having a dedicated office or work area. A business associate, like my sister, is learning all about this. During our telephone conference the other day, she was sitting in her bedroom closet with the door closed while I was at the desk in my office
I understand most of you don’t have an extra room sitting around. I wouldn’t, either, if I hadn’t planned my living space around my job. But before I could afford to do that, I placed a desk with my PC next to a small bookcase in a corner of my living room and that was my “office.”
Whenever I worked, that’s where I sat. That’s where my supplies were, and no one else could use the space. (Except the cat. And that’s only because he doesn’t listen.) I don’t watch television, so I wasn’t tempted to turn on the nonexistent device. But I sure was tempted to look at the activities going on outdoors, and the clouds floating by in the sky, and anything else that caught my eye.
Concentrating is difficult, especially when there are so many more interesting things to do than work. Having a dedicated work location is the best way to minimize distractions.
No-No #2: Not establishing “work” hours. When we begin working from home, we view the burgeoning day as we sip our coffee or tea. We see the enormous expanse of time and visualize all the things we’re going to get done … after we toss a load of laundry into the washer … or take a walk with Fido … or finish the last chapter of that great book we’re reading.
Problem is, by the time we finish doing all three of those things, and then hop in the shower, it’s noon. And half our day is shot. Stick to your office schedule at home. If you absolutely MUST run outside to meet the mailman, or romp with Rover in the back yard, schedule those activities as you would your break time at the “real” office. Work is work. You can still do it the same way, at the same time, regardless of where you are.
No-No #3: Staying in your PJs. More so now than when I started working from home, technology makes things easier and more difficult, all at the same time. Having work laptops that travel with us, and remote access to our servers at the office, truly does allow us to perform the same tasks regardless of where we are. However, when your boss says you need to be available for video chats, she means it.
Not wearing makeup is one thing. Wearing your college sweatshirt with the shredded, distended neckline is entirely something else. I no longer wear suits to work these days, and I definitely don’t wear makeup unless I know for sure I’ll be video chatting that day. I wear jeans in the winter and shorts in the summer. I wear slippers or go barefoot. But I always wear a nice blouse or top, along with earrings and a little jewelry.
If I weren’t dressed, I wouldn’t feel as if my day had truly begun. I’d be too relaxed, not ready to jump into action. When I work, I want to be prepared for anything that happens–which is tough to do if I’m wearing old white socks, red plaid flannels, an orange t-shirt, and a black sweatshirt.
To get back to my sister and wrap this up. When she called me that night after her first day from working at home, she said the best thing she could have done was get up, have her coffee, shower, dress and head for work the same way she always does. She got a kick out of having a commute that lasted four steps instead of twenty minutes driving through traffic, but said going through the same motions put her head in the right place. She declared her dining room the “office,” which worked well. But she did keep the television on low in the living room. Unlike me, she’s not real fond of being alone in absolute silence.
What No-Nos have you fallen prey to, and how do you avoid them?
I find myself using the word very lately, as in something is very important or very stupid. (I also use really in a similar fashion, and actually, but I’m going to stick with very today.)
If something’s important (or stupid), how does does very make it more so? Aren’t the words important and stupid explicit enough on their own without having to define degrees of importance and stupidity? Grammatically speaking, how correct is it to modify an adjective with another adjective?
Why do we use adjectives anyway? Sure, the red car distinguishes it from the blue and green ones but why do we have to say the green grass? Yep, in places like Montana grass turns dirt brown in the dryness of summer but, otherwise, it’s green … and don’t we all know that?
Same thing with adverbs. Yes, the earth spins slowly on its axis. I suppose it might be important to stress the fact to someone who’s very stupid but, really, how many people are so stupid they think the earth spins quickly on its axis? And if someone were that stupid, why would you be talking about the earth’s axis anyway?
All kidding aside, I understand the value of adjectives and adverbs. I’m just practicing a more judicious use of them lately.
What are your thoughts about the little buggers?
We resolve to be better each new year, listening to the advice of those who (supposedly) know so much more than we do: Eat healthier! Become more fit! Earn a higher salary!
But who and what are we really listening to as we ponder our lives, and strive to improve?
Many of us pay more attention to, and heed the words of, the people at work more than we do anyone else. Mathematically, it makes sense: we probably spend more time with our bosses, coworkers, and clients than with anyone else.
Some of us pride ourselves on reading self-help books and listening to Ted Talks or other motivational speakers when we struggle. This also makes sense: education and team work enables us to do so much more than we can do by ourselves.
And when our ears and minds become overloaded with the words and advice of others, we often relax by listening to music. I’m a musician myself, so I understand the magic of melody and the motivation of an uplifting beat.
But I’ve often wondered why we don’t listen to ourselves more. Why do we tend to forget that voice that lives inside, the one that struggles to be heard amid all the clamoring and shouting around us?
Why do we believe other people are smarter than we are? That they have all the answers and we can’t make a single decision without bowing to their superior knowledge?
Why do we doubt ourselves so much and, when we need to make an important decision, default to our belief in the propaganda that “they” are always right?
This year, I resolve to listen to myself more. To find more quiet spaces after I seek the advice of others. To allow that little voice inside me the opportunity to sing loud, and strong, and true … and share the music of what I really know, who I really am, and all I can really be.
Although I tend to get sad in the fall, when the heat of summer fades away and the trees begin shedding their leaves, I seldom react the same way at the end of the year. As each January approaches, I feel like I do when spring is around the corner: excited by the bright colors erupting all over the place and the music and fresh new scents filling the world. (I never remember the allergies until much, much later…)
Today is a beginning, a brand new year. But I love all beginnings, not just January first.
I look forward to Mondays (yes, I enjoy my job), Fridays (the beginning of the weekend), an unopened notebook, a freshly sharpened pencil. I even like beginnings that have nothing to do with writing: learning how to play a song on the cello, meeting a person I’ve never met, experimenting with a new recipe, researching graphology, tasting an unheard-of brand of tea.
If we always wear scratchy wool slacks, we’ll never know how comfortable soft corduroy pants feel. If we only listen to elevator music, we never hear the toe-tapping beat of jazz or the heart-rending pull of the blues. If we never reach out to hug someone else, we don’t know how it feels to be held in another person’s arms.
Traveling through life on a highway–one with clearly marked lanes, a wide shoulder, and a 65 mph speed limit–surely does take us places faster than if we meander down dirt roads, taking shortcuts that invariably wind up being longcuts and bouncing our way through a multitude of potholes. But it’s not nearly as scenic because all the sights pass by in a blur. It’s not nearly as musical, either, because we can’t hear anything other than the endless drone of rubber on pavement.
In 2020, I urge you to look forward to the possibilities, savor flavors you’ve never tasted, make up words to the tunes that run through your head. Detour down a back road instead of taking the highway, just once. Risk it, I dare you … see where that left turn takes you.
This January, listen to the softly falling snow and instead of griping because you can’t wear your suede boots or have to sweep off the car, immerse yourself in the wonder of Mother Nature, the tiny damp kisses she leaves on your cheek, and the joy each moment can bring to your life–if you let it.
Happy New Year ! ♥