It’s been three weeks since I started working from home – since most of us have been working from home, really – and to be honest I have not yet formed any rhythm to things. The fact that my work desk is mere meters away from me, a skip and a hop away, makes it difficult for me to mentally separate work from home/personal life.
The days have started to slowly blur for me. I mean, I think I’ll eventually figure out some rhythm and routine to structure things and serve as some sort of metronome, but I’m not yet there.
One of the things that I’ve found interesting though, in the past three weeks, is that the quiet of my own apartment has actually been detrimental to my own productivity, which is quite counterintuitive and surprising to say the least. If I don’t have music blasting into my ears, my mind seems to want the background hum of conversation, even if to drown out the noise in my own head.
Which is fine, normally, but if you’re now confined with just your own mental noise to speak to for the majority of your time, you start to feel stir crazy. The forced confinement to the four corners of my home has started to slowly bear down on me.
Admittedly, the occasional social-distancing-appropriate walks with one of my teammates who lives nearby has helped; it’s just not enough.
Going back to some social media channels might be an option, although I’ll need to take that in small controlled doses, lest my own sanity suffer even more.
It’s likely this will be the new normal for a few more months; three weeks in, and it seems that I’ve not yet adjusted.