I can still remember my excitement as a child when the weatherman would forecast snow. I remember running to my bedroom window and staring out into the yard and imagining snow blanketing the area. Then I would close my eyes and pray and wish and hope that so much snow would fall that school would be closed for the week.
School was never closed for a week, but those mornings in which I woke up and didn’t have to go to school were everything I could have wished for and more.
Even in college, I would rush to my window and pray really hard that the bridge to the academic side of campus would freeze over and be way too slippery to cross and that they would just cancel classes for the day. Especially once I started working on campus. And I can still remember the joy of getting those email and text notifications that class was cancelled until further notice.
When I was awarded my first snow day as a working woman, I rejoiced. Prior to, I had no idea that such a thing could exist, but as soon as I learned that it could, I read up on the employee handbook about “snow days” and prayed for them more frequently. And my prayer was answered. I got a snow day. But along with my snow day of unadulterated bliss, I had to report to work the following morning via my laptop to work from home.
I told myself that it was no big deal. To be quite frank, I was actually excited. All I could think about was all the work I would be able to knock out at my leisure as I meandered through emails and updated files. However, I was wrong. Dead wrong. Working from home became this sentence that I quickly wanted to end only minutes after it started. There’s nothing worse than counting down the hours until you leave when you are already at home.
I was never more excited to go into work than I was this morning, making my way through the paths that had been cleared of snow and bursting into that office with all my layers of clothes to sit down at my desk and fumble with my drawers and meander through emails while going to meetings here and there.
But if these past few days have taught me anything, besides the reason parents send their kids to school and go to work and dread snow days, it’s that I have a tendency to overcompensate and get frustrated when I feel like I haven’t overcompensated enough. I can’t even begin to tell you how tiring working from home was, merely because instead of sitting in bed, like I usually do, I sat at the dining room table. I was attentive to every email that came into my inbox and I answered every phone call on the first ring. Before noon had even arrived, I had finished all of my work and was left sitting there trying to find a task to fill up as much of the rest of my day as possible.
Every time I had to step away from my computer and phone, I grew antsy at the thought of not working and potentially having my employer revoke the privilege of working from home.
But more importantly, each time I stepped away from my computer, all I could think about was the office I would want when I finally get my own place. All I could think about was being a CEO or some other higher up who didn’t always need to be in office and could work leisurely from the comforts of my own home. I imagined sitting in my own home office and working through the details of a novel that I was on the verge of publishing.
I spent the entire day dreaming about the things I’m more passionate about in comparison to my current job. That’s not to say I’m not passionate about what I do, but to say that I realized that there is a lot that I want to do and am more passionate about.
Yesterday would have been the perfect day to get down to basics and rework that short story that I’ve been meaning to revise for the past week. It would have also been perfect to look at some articles for that documentary I’m determined to make. It also would have been perfect to start a whole new project as well.
So as much as I may wish for additional snow days, I’d much rather wish for them when I’m doing what I really love doing.