Mar
8th
Sat
8th
It’s half past Oprah and I’m still in my pajamas.
What I always thought working from home would be like: My favorite jeans, an oversized cashmere sweater, hot coffee on the couch draped in a blanket, cleaning the bathroom in between phone calls, a break to get a gourmet sandwich from the place down the block.
What working from home is really like: Pajamas at 4:30 because - yawn - why bother, no morning shower, no make-up, no brushed teeth, chocolate frosting dipped in peanut butter on a spoon for lunch, the TV on mute because crap I’m busy, embarassed to go outside because after four days of this, I really don’t think I’m presentable for public consumption.
Conclusion: working from home = way sexier in my head.
