Back in the office - exhausted but happy

In theory, working from home should have suited me down to the ground. I’m an introvert and a creature of habit; WFH, with my thrice daily walks around my neighbourhood, an extra hour each day thanks to the absence of a commute, my own, cosy little routine should have been idyllic. But this last fortnight, I have been surprised by a decided lifting of the heart. Once again, there is a spring in my step which has been missing for too long.

Initially I’m mystified: it’s the end of a long, hard year; most of us are reeling with weariness resulting from too many zoom meetings and too few holidays. Then it hits me. The heaviness has departed because I am physically back at work.

I returned with no small degree of trepidation, a little concerned about infection but more anxious about negotiating crowds and social situations. But at the end of my first shift back, I found myself whistling on my walk to the station.

That first day, several of my team were around and we were a lot less productive than usual, greeting each other with enthusiasm, having corridor and kitchen chats, revelling in dropping by to ask something instead of the clunkiness of a teams call, even (don’t tell anyone) hugging. I found myself having inane chats with a goofy grin on my face. It felt so damn good just to be able to natter.

I had forgotten how convenient, how well-equipped a proper office is. My desk is vast compared to the one at home. There is a printer handy. I have two ginormous (compared to my laptop) screens. Everything is quicker and easier and more efficient.

I have felt energised, and I have also been exhausted. Be warned, those of you commuters venturing back to the work place. Twice daily train trips, the grime and stimulation of the city, and cranking up my rusty socialising skills wore me out. I have been shredded at the end of each day. But it’s a good tiredness, different from the dead weight of days and days confined to quarters. Much as I love home and my companion there, human beings are not designed to be confined to one small space with one other person, no matter how dear and how accommodating.

These days, when I reconnect with my beloved, there is so much to talk about. All the goss from the big wide world out there. The people I have seen, the news, the laughs, the conversations to pass on. The boundaries are reinstated. Work is work and home is only home, and I’m suffused with a joyous sense of well-being and gratitude for my ordinary life.  

 This was published in The Melbourne Age on 16 December 2021