I barely go outside anymore – it’s just for milk, bread, and occasionally, eggs. I have grown to appreciate this level of privilege over the last month or so. Speaking of, it’s been four months since the first corona case in India. I have all but forgotten my new year’s resolution I adopted back in January of 2020. I, however, know what it means staying alive now!
Working from home is like a hidden rash during summertime that everybody has, yet nobody wants to talk about.
Apart from committing to a beard, another development has been shaping my life as of late – the phenomenon of working from home. It’s like a hidden rash during summertime that everybody has, yet nobody wants to talk about. And like a rash, it tends to change you as a person.
In my case, I’ve developed this habit of working in a pair of board shorts that I rarely ever forgo for something else. The occasional denim is but a flailing hand swing away, mind you.
Waking up an hour late for work than my usual time has been the best part of this exercise. Although I miss the meditative return to home from work – wearing headphones, listening to podcasts, walking at a snail’s pace, and taking an impossibly longer time than would be otherwise possible. A lot of things have changed as I write this.
My office is my room, my room is my office – sounds great in theory, but is a tricky proposition in real life. My employer knows their limits, and keeps the peace after the clock has called it in. I, on the other hand, get up from work, without any post-work cathartic ritual to fall back to, and reach back home, from work, in board shorts – my beard, crisp, just like the one I woke up with.