Back to the Office

There's a sense of mourning, an intangible feeling of sadness, not that anybody has died. 

The bag is packed. The laptop is stowed away in its section of the back pack. In the front pocket, my wallet, the phone charger, a couple of bright red lipsticks, some sunglasses,  a spare mask,  my mason's ritual, a tube of Blistex, some pens... it's the work bag. There are earbuds as well. The good ones that don't need special jack, but the ones Apple supplied with the phone. You expect the work bag to contain these things. 

But I've got out of the habit. 

In another pocket sits my kindle and my running shoes, as I intend to walk home if the weather allows. At the moment, I live in hope. 

In the last pocket there's a couple of shopping bags. 

My work pass and myki are hanging from the bag by a lanyard, it's protective pocket stuck together with gaffer tape. 

My clothes are set out on the chair outside the spare room. Melbourne black. Wide legged black trousers, a black sleeveless t-shirt and oversized black cardigan. I think I'll need the oversized grey cardigan which is sitting next to the back pack. It's going to be another cold one. Black, leather lace up shoes and sockets sit below the clothes. 

My glasses have been cleaned and polished, ready for use. 

Lunch is ready in the fridge - just chicken and salad.  I'll take it in, no willing to see what is on offer in Salmonella Central, the food court in the shopping centre at the base of the building. With any luck, the coffee places are up and running again. I haven't thrown out my coffee cards. On the stove, my coffee is ready in the Italian stove top pot ready to percolate. Having this ready saves me five minutes in the morning. 

I've practiced putting on my eyeliner and mascara over the last few days - I've been out and about and it's been good to 'put my face on' before leaving the house. Working from home, I don't bother. 

The alarm is set for 6.30 a.m. The aim is to beat the crowds on the tram and train, then walk home at night to lessen the chance of running into the virus. Mind you, if you catch it, you catch it. Being fully vaccinated gives me some peace, but I've had a couple of friends and colleagues who have had it - the more you can stay away, the better. It's horrid. 

And sure, we have to check in and wear masks all day in the office. I've got a mask bracket in my back. It keeps the cloth away from your face, making mask wearing a bit more comfortable. 

If my colleague didn't have to go in, I wouldn't be going in. But as she's new, I need to show her around the office. She's keen to get back in, but there are issues, like the fact they're about to do another restack on the floor, and her lack of a working headset. It's all fun.  Also, my colleague who left two months ago needs his personal items collected. That's what the shopping bags are for. Hopefully there won't be much to collect.   Our manager is in Sydney, so she can't do it. There will be only a handful of people in the floor. The mask wearing puts a lot of people off going in. Well, that and COVID, and public transport and traffic and the dodgy food at Salmonella Central. 

I was last in the office on 14 July - four months ago. I wonder if my nice Clinique lipstick is still in my desk drawer. And my collection of chopsticks and pen and Post-It notes. 

I also wonder, after all these preparations, how, for nearly thirty years of my life, I had been making these preparations. There is something to be said for rolling out of bed at 8 a.m., feeding the cat, showering, making a coffee, dressing in a t-shirt and jeans, running a comb over my hair and shoving my feet in a pair of ugg boots or Birkenstocks, depending on the weather. 

It's after all this preparation I see the benefits of working from home. 

Today's song: