A few years ago, when I happened to be on leave from my job due to health reasons, I used to receive condolences from friends and acquaintances alike, all so deeply troubled by my ailments as to comment: ‘poor you, you must be so bored at home’. I often wondered at the time what prompted them to condole me about being at home. Never mind that I was actually ill and that perhaps pain may have been the crux of the problem. Oh no, I was hard done by because I was at home. If I take the sick part out of the leave, I can certainly tell you that I had a good time at home and could never quite grasp why others saw the 'not going to work' as the problem. Today I was working from home which in itself has great advantages. I do not have to drive to and from the office and instead of puncturing the day with random Starbucks drop-ins, I can actually take meaningful breaks, such as putting the washer on, making the bed, washing the kitchen floor or sipping my tea as I wander around the garden, to see what’s new. I start work earlier, finish earlier and do not feel like I am chained to my desk even when I do not have anything pressing to do. In fact, if I could, I’d probably pay to be able to work at home (or heck, not to work at all if possible!) and enjoy the beauty and surprises that life brings without the constant need to validate them, and myself, against a set of unwritten workplace-rules. I would be quite happy to write, do the housework and ride in the evening, although I suppose that this probably wouldn't make me feminist enough or avant-garde enough. To some, this is a big issue. Still, I don't think I would care. I'd be happy to spend all of my time with my trusty steed whom, you will agree, currently looks a bit of a skinny minnie to me. I wish I responded to diets as well, or indeed as quickly, as he does...
