Moody Monday: Transitions

From the office, to retirement, was a transition.  From my calendar being filled with the demands of others, to my days being filled with what I want to do.  Somedays I have mastered this, somedays, not really. 

Five years ago, many of us transitioned from full time in the office, to remote work.  In many ways, once we got used to working remotely, it was nice.  It was nice to be free from the commute. For many of us, the hours became more flexible, with the ability to take care of household tasks over the course of the day.  It also allowed work to creep into personal space and time.  

Many people are being told to transition back to work in the office. I am not entirely convinced that this is a good thing for many people. But if asked to, I urge you use this transition to draw a clearer barrier between work and not work.  Work should only happen during expected work hours. Unless you do lifesaving work, or support critical systems, there is no reason to read,  or listen, let alone respond to office messages outside of office hours.  If your employer is removing the flexibility to work remotely, remove the ability of your employer to expect you to be on call, when you are not in the office. They don't pay you enough to own your soul, no matter how much they pay you.  I have been there, done that, and it was not worth it. 

When I transitioned to the staff at the American Bar Association, I asked the "boss" what the work hours were.  He said, "I don't care when you arrive, or when. you leave, we try to schedule all meeting between 10:00 AM and 3:00 PM so it is helpful for you to be here then. Get your work done, and we will never think about your hours." It was nice. It freed me from the clock, and allowed me to focus on doing good work.  

I am transitioning into adventure mode.  Thinking about early morning soaks in the hot tub on the pool deck, about train rides, and exploring old cities.  There is one pilgrimage on this trip. I have my grandmother's birth certificate, I want to go find the house she was born in, near Greenwich, England. I have seen it on Google Earth. We will see if I can find it on the ground.  Years ago we were in Swansea on the south coast of Wales.  I found where her mother was born. 

I am having fun playing with transition.  If Elon's teenage boffins are scanning my messages, they are wasting their time. I like wasting their time.  That probably describes my mood this Monday.