Why I don’t want to bring my whole self to work.

5.43am

It’s still dark when I jolt awake 2 minutes before my alarm goes off. I contemplate how dressed I actually need to be for the 6am Zoom call and how much time I need to make a cup of tea. I hastily put on a t-shirt over my nightwear and head to the kitchen. 

5.58am

The dog whimpers in her cage, hoping to be let out, and the cat follows me meowing constantly. Tea made (in the dark), I head to the makeshift office with 2 minutes to spare. The cat, who usually wants nothing to do with anyone, begins her campaign of jumping on my desk, walking over my keyboard and waving her fluffy tail across the video camera.

6.10am

The cat meows and talks and purrs. I am not a morning person, and I can’t concentrate. While pets on videos were novel at the start of this pandemic cluster-fuck, I don’t think anyone cares now. I throw her out of the office and shut the door. 

6.50am 

My 12-year-old son enters the office. He’s half-dressed and ready to talk. He brings the dog with him, who has been released from her overnight prison and is running out her pent-up energy and excitement.

I’m still on my call. I motion to him to not speak and to leave the room. Instead, he sits on my husband’s office chair and spins and spins making me dizzy in my peripheral vision. After 5 minutes I mute my call, turn off my camera and yell at him to leave me alone, get dressed and go have breakfast. It’s still dark and I don’t need an audience.

7.20am

My 9 year old son enters the office wanting to know what I’m working on and who I’m talking to. He barely gets 2 minutes attention before being told to get his shoes on for school.

7.55am

I’m off my morning calls, the kids are on the school bus and I’m tired and resentful. 

Last Friday I had lunch with two other women friends, both in full time senior roles. We talked about whether we are working back in the office, or still at home. One friend noted that she doesn’t want to bring her whole self to work. My ears pricked up. When you work in diversity and inclusion, we are often talking about being comfortable and feeling safe to bring “your whole self” to work as a sign of an inclusive culture.

She commented “I don’t want to bring my daughter’s puss-filled foot sore on my lap while I’m trying to lead a global call. And I don’t want to bring my dog’s howling sessions. And I don’t want to bring the condo security guy popping up for a chat, whilst I’m fully engaged in a zoom call...I don’t think my workplace is ready for all this!”

Anecdotally men have been trying to get back to the office sooner rather than later because they don’t like interruptions and they can’t concentrate at home. Women (supposedly) have been enjoying the flexibility of working from home. Or have we?

I went and asked more professional women about their experiences working from home during the pandemic. It was an avalanche of frustration and venting. Here’s a sample:

“The child waving frantically off camera to get my attention. I interrupt the call to attend to what I think is an urgent matter but turns out she just wants me to ‘approve an app purchase’ in the middle of a new business sales pitch.”

And….

“The nonstop ringing of everyone’s personal devices that are of course kept in my office and of course not on silent mode!”

And….

“Husband having a conversation with me in another room whilst I’m in a call with noise cancelling headset”

And…..

“Children screaming at one another at crucial point of call when I have the floor”

“Husband constantly asking if camera is on when you can clearly see it is on my screen”

“Dog sitting right underneath the wheels of my chair then shrieking when I move”

“My husband playing computer games with friends, shouting loudly while I'm on a Zoom call: "He's got a gun! Coming your way, hide! ..”

 And 

“Anything that starts with “where is…..?” 

I agree with my lunch time friend. I don’t want to bring my full self to work. I want to bring the confident pulled together version. The version that is well-dressed, with make-up and hair done, that doesn’t have a cat/dog/child/husband making constant interruptions.  The version that can grab a coffee without having to tidy up shoes and pick up underwear. The version that used to get to travel alone where the only interruption on a plane while watching a movie is whether I would like another glass of wine.

 So the next time someone talks about bringing their whole self to work I’m going to challenge what they mean by that, because I suspect no workplace is ready for what women have been dealing with at home during the last 12 months.