The Corner Office Without Walls

Imagine living in a space where if you turn slightly, there’s your desk. If you turn ninety degrees, you’ll see your kitchen. One-eighty degrees, and you see the rest of your living space.

That’s the life I live. My office is in the corner of my living room. I can’t tuck it away behind closed doors, which means I always see it while I’m just living. I could be watching TV and just happen to look over to where I spent the last seven hours — and where I’ll be again in about fifteen.

Now, this isn’t a big deal, usually. But it weighs heavily on me whenever I end a particularly hard workday. I can look over and remember a current task that’s waiting for me in the morning. When I’m supposed to be winding down, I’m suddenly going through my task list as if I didn’t do that before clocking out.

Also, working from home removes the natural transitions that come with working in an office, such as commuting and dress codes. I had to make them myself and resist the urge to backslide.

My fourth lesson learned while working from home is: Knowing how to transition well is mandatory.

Having a Cozy Workday Can Backfire

(But I still want you to have one!)

Look, I thought I had transitioning out of work down pat. My clothes were already comfortable; I’d spent most of the day typing away with a furry blanket on my shoulders. There was no way I could ever burn out again while working under my ideal conditions.

But in reality, work is work. No matter how it’s done, where it’s done, and whether or not I kept my bonnet on all day. It will take the same amount of mental focus as it would if I spent forty minutes on the train to do the same work onsite.

Whether it’s work or play, I do it all in the same room, and often at the same desk. My funky blue task chair can become associated with stress, even though I could be gaming when the feeling hits me. Researching on one monitor while writing this blog entry on the other can remind me how much energy it took to check over a client’s work across multiple documents.

The lines were blurred, and it was difficult to wind down how I thought I was supposed to.

Transitions Are Signals

My body knows. It knows when it’s time to eat, when it’s time to sleep, and when it’s time to work. From that, I needed to tell my body what the activity was with my actions.

First, the clothes. I noticed that if I tried to work in sweatpants, my efficiency significantly decreased. I get dressed for work now, as if I am leaving my house. I needed an identity that couldn’t clash with who I am outside of work. My work uniform is typically jeans and a blouse. Simple, but enough to get the gears turning.

Second, my workout schedule. It has changed so much in the past few months. At first, I took breaks in between work blocks to exercise. Now, it’s a bridge to cross to end my workday — my “final work task.” After I clock out of work, I move my body as the ending.

Third, the work clutter. I love sitting at my desk, even when I’m not working, to work on my hobbies. With that, I make sure the work tools I use at work are out of sight — mouse, keyboard, headset — and I don’t touch them at all when I’m not working.

It works out extremely well. If I were to remove it, I’d miss the discipline of it all the most.

Boundaries for the Mind

Physically, work stays in the same corner. But mentally, it needed to remain in the appropriate time window. When boundaries around attire, objects, and routine are in place, transitions can occur daily.

Just because my office has no walls does not mean work gets to spill all over my home.

Have a cozy workday, dear.