nine months ago, i started a new job. we have a Buckhead office for occasional internal and client meetings, but for the most part, everyone works remotely. it’s totally cool, but (like most things in life) it’s not exactly how i thought it would be.
before i started, i imagined that my life would suddenly transform. obviously, i would automatically be transported to the magical world where lifestyle bloggers live . . . where life is clean white and stylish with the warm glow of a scented candle and a sweet doggie curled up quietly by my side as i worked. i imagined that through the magic of time shifting, i would be a beacon of productivity on the work front, while also maintaining an immaculate home, effortlessly preparing a balanced and interesting meal every evening at a reasonable hour and definitely being in the best shape of my life, thanks to daily workouts in between conference calls . . .
i quickly realized that just like in every other more traditional agency gig i’ve ever had, where there’s no telling what the day will throw at you, zen-like focus and utter control over my own domain were not destined to show up on my doorstep just because my morning commute was reduced to 16 stairs. it still is advertising, after all. here are a few of the days i’ve become familiar with over these many months. they each have their own personality and i’m still working on my relationship with most of them in order to make the most out of each one. and, though i don’t think i’m schizo, maybe working from home actually is driving me a little crazy . . .
she totally has her shit together. she is the day you aspire to have every day. she gets you up with the alarm and no snooze. she empowers you to gets the girl off to school and get a workout in early. she inspires you to be dressed in something other than jammies or workout clothes and in front of your computer by 9:30, to-do list at your side, and ready to crank it out. you wouldn’t believe how much she helps you get done. the world knows better than to throw curve balls at a Miranda day. she makes sure you’ve wrapped everything easily up by school pick-up time and that you’re not checking email after dark. at the end of a Miranda day, you’re curled up in bed by 10:00, feeling productive and relaxed.
she is a shitshow. the exact opposite of Miranda, she is your old roommate who operated in a constant state of astronomical drama. she’ll mess with you just for the sake of it. no amount of planning can prepare you for her. there’s no way to predict what mean thing she’ll throw at you next. and everything you try to do to control her is an abject failure. forget your schedule. forget your to-do list. forget Lifestyle Blogger Land. on Tori days, your pantry calls to you incessantly and you find yourself stress-eating the last half of the Halloween candy without a thought. you’re still wearing jammies when it’s time for school pick-up. and you’re still i.m.-ing with your team well past bedtime. pretty much all you can do is wait ’til the storm’s over and hope the collateral damage isn’t too devastating.
she’s cool. breezy. she’s part schedule fairy, who magically turns your calendar clean white, and part bestie who always has the most amazing ideas for how to relax and have fun. Waking up to a Willow day feels like a delicious holiday, where only good things can happen. you go for a run without the dog. then walk the dog. you get your nails done, catching up on Facebook and Pinterest all the while. your email never dings. you lunch with friends, lingering into the afternoon over another glass of wine and conversation about everything but work. you tidy up the kitchen and catch up on laundry to the backdrop of a couple episodes of your latest Netflix obsession. everything is in order. school pick-up time is early on Willow days, because why not? dinner is something new and different and the day ends pretty much like a Miranda day, but better.
she has a lot of nervous energy, but not a lot to do. after too many days in a row with Willow, Thelma inevitably shows up. for all of Willow’s carefree hours of recharging and focusing on personal to-dos, Thelma packs double the intensity of insecurity. i’m not busy. our clients are too quiet. why isn’t anyone emailing me? is the company okay? am i getting fired? she kind of begs you to clean out that closet or start an elaborate dinner recipe. at the same time, she gently hints that you should definitely find some way to be billable or definitely start looking for a new job. she urges you to ask yourself WWWD? (What Would Willow Do), then compells you to at least clean out your inbox and desktop — which is decidedly nothing Willow would ever bother with. you probably drink too much wine and still go to bed with a knot in your stomach, hoping Thelma doesn’t show up again tomorrow.
she’s a traveler at heart — and she’ll take you on a whirlwind tour. Finn days require a lot of energy, but they’re usually worth it. these are the days when those internal and client meetings have you running around town. you get to get dressed up!! ohshit. you have nothing to wear! on Finn days, you usually resolve to stop by Ann Taylor on the way home and buy a couple more “nice” outfits, but then never do, because there is never the time. you make a master plan to squeeze in a workout, but inevitably don’t. you’re nearly the last parent at pick-up, the dog goes on a pillow/shoe-destroying berserker while you were away and dinner is . . . well, maybe no one will care if it’s leftovers? overall, thought, you have a busy, productive, positive and social day. by the time it’s over, you kind of wonder if you should go into the office a few times a week. and then, as you imagine hanging with Miranda or Willow tomorrow, you’re totally glad you don’t have to.