10 reasons why offices don’t work

Children back at school. I have an uninterrupted day of writing ahead.  Thank God I can spend it at at home.  I’m so un-used to other people’s offices that just being in one can put me off doing anything creative.  The administrative/managerial/ planning stuff, for which you need other people works fine, but is there anything less likely to generate creative thought than a beige, battery office?  Home works because:

1.  I can work when I am most productive.  Personally I work best after lunch – some say lazy, I just blame my circadian rhythms.  Either way, at home I can potter about all morning, mulling over what needs to be done, than pounce at precisely the right moment for peak efficiency and keep going until it’s done because…

2.  Once I’ve started I don’t get interrupted.  No-one hovering over my shoulder asking for a quick word  No diary sliced into little chunks of productive work separated by meetings to interrupt my train of thought.

3.  It doesn’t smell of food and there are no crumbs at my desk (except ones I’ve left).  Pret’s discovery of Miso soup has a lot to answer for.  The last office I worked in smelled like a Pot Noodle factory.

4.  My desk is where (and how) I left it – no hot-desking, no having to fight each morning to get a desk with a chair AND a phone AND access to a working printer

5.  I don’t need to put my name on the  milk in my fridge.

6. I can work in silence if I want to, or with the radio if I don’t.  I can listen to music and sing loudly if the spirit takes me.  I can offer my opinion on  callers to 5Live without being arrested for hate crime.

7. I can test out the copy I’m writing by reciting it out loud while wandering round the garden.  What looks good on the page can sound weird when spoken aloud. If it’s going to be fun to read it has to feel like something someone might say.

8. I don’t have to clock-watch all afternoon, tracking backwards from the time at which I ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO leave the office to be home in time for the children, and trying to work out what I can fit into the time that’s left.

9.  I don’t have to go anywhere in rush hour.

10. There’s a tree outside to stare at if inspiration fails.  I sit by a window that opens, so I can control the temperature without having to beg building services to turn the aircon up or down.  I have never seen mice behind the filing cabinets, or had to set cockroach traps on the window sill (and they say public sector workers are feather-bedded!)

No wonder the Work Foundation has research projects looking at the impact of work on health and wellbeing.  Is there anyone who thinks working in an office is a pleasure?

Shoulders down, back straight

Fed up of swearing and wincing in pain every time I get up from my old office chair, I went to buy a new one the other day.   Apparently it’s not just the chair, it’s the desk, my husband (he’s too tall, so the desk is too high for me – although it’s still too low for him), my computer (laptops are notoriously bad for giving you a bad back) and the length of my arms that’s wrong.  So I don’t just need a new chair, I need an electronically adjustable desk, a chair with a gas-lift, a laptop arm, a wireless keyboard and new mouse, a footrest and possibly a new husband before I can rise gracefully from my desk again.

If I had a decent employer I’d threaten to sue and have occupational health round faster than you can say compensation.  As it is, I’ll just have to scrabble down the back of the ergonomically unsound sofa for some spare change and put up with the fact that the corner of my house that serves as my office will soon look like the flight deck of a space ship.

For anyone else with the same problem, here’s some advice about how to sit (it sounds so simple…).  If your problem is marital incompatibility I’m afraid you’re on your own.

Don’t just sit there – write something

This week I have mostly been feeling ill.  Not hovering at death’s door ill.  Just out of sorts and sorry for myself and unable to concentrate.  This is the worst state for a freelancer – too bad to want to work, not bad enough to give in gracefully and take to bed; just guiltily hovering between sofa and desk nostalgic for the days of proper employment, when being ill meant the novelty of being home alone in daytime (and you still got paid).

Anyway, I have work to do hanging over from last week which can’t be allowed to get in the way of next week.  So I’ve been sitting here for two hours on a Saturday afternoon and I have:

  • spent quite a lot of time on wordoid trying to find a new name for the business
  • spent more time on LinkedIn searching for old friends from university and deciding whether I want to get back in touch with them or not
  • ditto Facebook
  • marvelled yet again at the vacuousness of most of Twitter, and looked at lots and lots of tweets to prove  that I’m right
  • repeatedly put work-related search terms into wonder wheel to create ever lovelier and more complicated networks than I will ever have time to do anything with
  • changed the theme of the blog – bored with the old one, not sure about this one, might change it back soon
  • written 263 words of this blog post (in about ten minutes) which is 144 more words than I have managed to put into the piece of work I’ve been doing since 3 o’clock
  • found the procrastinators’ blog