Solitary Confinement

I walked across the street today to knock on Bill's door. I had eaten a hurried sandwich lunch at home during a long meeting on the phone and wanted a big fizzy drink. And I needed gas in the car and cash in my wallet. So I thought I'd invite Bill on a trip to the corner gas station since he had taken the whole week off, and his truck was in the driveway.

But when I peered thru the window by the door, the living room was dark. And although I waited, he didn't answer the bell. So I pulled out some viney-things that were poking thru the mulch that he and I had spread on the garden beside the house and then turned to go home.

As I was crossing the street, I heard him calling me. I slapped my forehead apologetically, thinking that I had woken him. But he said I hadn't and yes he would come along. So we took a little road trip.

Now this was a big deal for me—doing something with somebody in the middle of the day.

You see, at times telecommuting is akin to punishment. No matter how often you chat with colleagues on the phone, and no matter how many webex teleconferences you attend, when you work from home, you are fundamentally alone. And when you work that way day after day, week after week, you begin to feel isolation similar, I suppose, to solitary confinement.

Today Bill liberated me, and I might just make it thru the rest of the week.

Or was it all just the caffeine from the fizzy drink?

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