I, along with every other employee at my company, could no longer go to the workplace. My Homer Simpson daydreams had become reality! Lady E. and M’s Bart Simpson-like head trips materialized when schools shut…indefinitely! America was going batshit crazy. The Long Wait began.
To be fair, there was near-terror that March-April. The psychological immunity many people felt had evaporated. The DMZ between major population centers and the few infection hotspots in the U.S. was no more. Folks withdrew into their homes and stockpiled whatever supplies they deemed necessary for their lifestyle. The authorities implored citizens to stay indoors and avoid contact with others unless absolutely necessary. In response, people went shopping online and in-person. Some were protected by masks and gloves. Others shielded themselves with defiant “Don’t Tread On Me” T-shirts.
We had enough toilet paper. Instead, I hoarded Starbucks Dark Roast ice coffee, my fuel of choice for the home office. I went alone to the supermarket for basic foodstuffs. Once there, I witnessed the most un-American scene I had ever encountered: empty store shelves.
The Rising Family® kept indoors for several days, relying on Nickelodeon and Disney to keep the kids sedated. We adults sipped news reports, and scoured local Facebook groups and Nextdoor social media apps to divine what was happening around us.
After less than a week of staying in the house our lockdown ended. We needed to get out, and began departing on night drives in our trusty Rogue SUV to marvel at the quiet downtown and gawk at the lack of any social normal activity. We rolled down the car windows along country roads in the crisp March evenings. That air became an elixir of stress relief and a tranquilizer.
Work@Home
I started my new work routine headquartered in our spare room. I soon rearranged the space for better optics and audio, i.e. nesting.
Using Zoom for serial remote e-meetings with my coworkers brought back dim childhood memories of the Hollywood Squares C-list celebrity game show circa the late 1970s.
The more I worked from home, the more I grew to miss the 30-minute drive into the office, with the better angels of NPR reporting the day’s morning news bulletins on the car radio. I had cherished my alone time during the evening trips homeward when I would I flip between classic rock and podcasts of my choice. I missed these commuting rituals!
After some time passed working at home I came to feel that no coping mechanisms were enough. For me, online happy hours, side-chats, and Skype calls simply could not recreate an atmosphere for ideal collaboration, teamwork and friendship among coworkers. We all did – are doing— our best. But true social interaction can’t be replicated online. An emoticon does not -- will never – be the same as a knowing wink of disdain, or a raised eyebrow signaling “is he/she for real?”, or a telling nod that telegraphed support from a colleague.
Like people googling themselves during the early days of that search engine, I daresay many people fiddled endlessly with their Zoom settings to find the most flattering lighting. I am sure many have learned to shut off the microphone when slipping away for quick “bio break” executed within earshot of the computer speakers or smartphone during yet-another sonorous conference call. New digital skills have emerged.
I have always favored strict division between my work and my private life--Facebook kudos excepted. COVID-19 obliterated that. I am still utterly grateful to be working when millions of others aren't as fortunate.
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