Tales from the Home Office

Working from home definitely has its advantages. I wear giant pink fuzzy slippers all day, there is no commute (which means I get up at seven every day instead of six, which is so wonderful I can hardly express it), and I get to pick the music playing over the sound system (unless Tony is in a country and western mood, which I tolerate once a week, tops).

However, there are a few pitfalls.

1. Weight management. The fridge is way too close. If you get hungry or have a snack attack, you can just waltz to the kitchen and find any number of snacks, free and there for the eating. This has made grocery shopping a little more strategic - basically, I don't purchase snack foods, ever. Protein, fruit, vegetables and that's it. The last time Tony and I had a decent snack, it was at my mom's house, where she lives by the opposite creed - she doesn't cook, so all she has is snack food. Her kitchen is a minefield of cookies, chips and cheese.

2. My dog. I love him, he makes me smile, having him sleep at my feet while I'm working is wonderful and sweet. What isn't wonderful and sweet is that he's figured out that every time Tony or I get on the phone, if he stands next to our chair and barks, we'll pet him to get him to shut up. So we are petting defensively most of the day. Oh, and he's slowly shredding the leather arm on Tony's chair with his little toenails. (It is one of our dining-room chairs that cost an obscene amount of money back when we had money.) Oh, and the big smelly dog just licked the small of my back and I can guarantee you THAT never happened at the office.

3. Lunch dates. Eating hot dogs at the kitchen island with Tony is about as lunch date-y as I get. I used to have weekly lunches with the ladies I worked with, both in my office days and my cosmetics days. Now, I heat up some leftovers and scarf them down with one eye on my Blackberry and one ear to the phone in the office down the hall. Not exactly the glamorous life of a company president I'd envisioned.

4. The bathroom. I used to be able to use the restroom in peace when I worked in an office. No furry beasts followed me in, only to want to sit on my lap or claw at my exposed legs. No co-worker ever ignored me for three solid hours, only to decide that the minute I left to take a tinky break was the only time he could possibly talk to me. It doesn't help that the half-bath is adjacent to the office, so he can shout from his desk to the toilet with ease. Bleah.

But, I can't complain too much. I have a fantastic view. (I took the desk next to the window overlooking the lake.) I can go upstairs and watch TV when I get a break. I can go to work with wet hair and no one says anything. I get to work with my best friend every day - and he totally understands when I need a Panera Bread sanity lunch. Which I do today!