Laboring on Labor Day

I always thought working from home would be the ideal situation. No worries about wardrobe, no hungry co-workers asking to share my snacks, no over-used and under-cleaned bathrooms and no boss asking me to step into his office.

It seemed perfect, until yesterday. I got stuck working on Labor Day, but was lucky to be granted permission to work from home. No problem, I thought while picturing my efficient little self reading through copy with a margarita in one hand my computer mouse in the other.

The reality was a bit less ideal than I imagined. First of all, I forgot the margarita. I know, that was clearly the downfall. My dogs obviously didn't get the memo that I was working because they bothered me with all sorts of needing-to-go-outside nonsense. My husband decided Labor Day was the perfect day to play with, I mean work with, noisy power tools. Several margarita-drinking friends drunk dialed me to see how my "Lazy Day" was going. Yes, I'm sure it was funny after that third margarita.

The distractions I faced at home were more distracting than those I faced at work. It was easier to ignore co-workers — especially those begging for food — than my two cute puppies. It was easier to hide from my boss than my husband. And my bathrooms weren't that clean, and I couldn't blame the cleaning crew.