Scenes from a Snow Day

Working from home is like a B-12 shot in the ass of my week: I gain two hours when I don't commute. Two freaking hours. It's the thing you dream about, gaining two hours in your day, right?

Work-wise, I start earlier and end later. I plow through things without distraction. I can change the laundry from the washer to the dryer on my way to the bathroom. And I can do it all in elastic waist pants.

There are no photos of me working in this post, because a) work is private and b) those pics would be boring. Not that these in between photos from a work from home day aren't. They're small, stupid things that feel delicious and decadent because I *can* do them during a weekday. At lunch, I wolfed down a sandwich and glanced through Real Simple at lunch, then I painted my nails (Essie penny talk) before meal planning for next week.

In the afternoon, I shoveled and salted, marveled at the sun coming out after the shitty morning, chased down the shutter that blew away with the ferocious wind, and washed the curtains the dogs rage peed on since I dared to be outside without them. And I did all of it in my polka dot pajama pants.

But the best part at the end of the day is not suiting up to go out in the cold, perhaps having to walk over human poop on the way to the station, pushing like a tiny fish in a huge school to actually get through the door and onto the train, sitting all squished with everyone in their winter coats and loud ass phone calls, then getting on the shuttle to the parking lot or hauling ass back to my car on foot.

Not having to commute helps my balance and gives me a sense of found time on those here and there WFH days.

When I work from home I can just walk over to the couch, kick my feet up, have it still be sort of light out, and know that my laundry is all done and folded and waiting to be put away upstairs.

Where it will sit...for a long time. Because putting laundry away sucks.

What would you do with two extra hours in a day?