Between the Quiet and the Chaos

I work from home on Wednesdays. I actually have a better set-up here at home than I do at the office. It’s warmer and more comfortable. I’ve got large screens and the music playing doesn’t need to be piped through my headphones. Oh, and there isn’t the office chatter which gets to be quite the distraction.

For years, I have thought that working remotely would be the best thing for me. No commute, no worries about my troublesome tummy (I eat the wrong food and it goes right through me. Let me tell you, it isn’t pleasant at the office). No dog walker to take the pug out in the middle of the day or worrying about doing laundry the night before work because I have no clean clothes. Working remotely was the most ideal scenario when it came to a professional life.

I miss the office though. Working one day a week from home is more than enough. The only real reason I continue to do so is to have the uniterrupted time to get my own work done. When I’m at the office, I’m usually interrupted again and again to help out with various code issues or meetings or client calls or some sort of thing that I need—want—to help with. I miss the office because of the people I work with.

To be honest, this is the best group of people I’ve ever worked with. The bulk of the employees have been there for seven years or more. I’m one of the fairly newer ones; I just had my three year anniversary last month. They aren’t just my coworkers and they’re a bit more than acquaintances. A few are good friends. It was slightly difficult transitioning from being an equal to being promoted to VP, where I now manage and delegate work and discipline (even though it rarely gets to that point).

I write all this to point out that I’m happy with my place at the company. I’m happy with the people I work with. On the whole though, these coworkers are my only source of interaction with other people. I see my good friend J maybe once a month, talk to K maybe every six months, C and I text more often lately and my brother and I usually touch base every few weeks. But, other than that, it’s just the pug that I have any sort of consistency with. (And he doesn’t talk back…yet).

There was a time when I craved being alone (or times when I felt I didn’t deserve even a friendly smile…my, how broken I have been). During my marriage, my ex would never shut up. There was no silence to be found in the house. My early morning routine started during the first year of my marriage because it was the only time I had that allowed the space around me to be empty.

Now I have too much empty. Too much silence. I miss the connection to another human soul. Is it any wonder that I miss going into the office? Although, an office is a poor panacea for a lonely heart, particularly for a VP.

I live a life of extremes, don’t I? I have yet to find the balance between the quiet and the chaos.

One of my themes this year is health and that’s not just for my physical health. My emotional health needs some help as well. I haven’t exercised my heart in a few years. I’ve kept it closed. It is easier to not open than it is to attempt a connection and deal with the inevitable hurt. A closed heart is only hurt from itself. This is a weakness of mine and one I desparately want to cure. There’s a thread I need to balance on here. One side is a quick fall into feeling as if I will never be loved again. I will never have strong hands cradle me or a scruffy beard to nestle my nose in. The other side of that thread is a hard, obsidian heart where, even if the chance comes, I will be too blind to recognize it.

You know, I’m not this sappy or pathetic in real life. I know I seem like a sad sack of shit. There’s something about anonymity and words that breaks down my walls. Maybe I really am like this. Maybe I just want a romance like I read about. Maybe I want to work through the hard stuff. Maybe I want to be in step with someone, face the world together to look back when we’re eighty and say, What a great life. I’m glad I got to share it with you.