Sit, think, and type

Plenty of jobs are harder than mine. (Provincial Archives of Alberta)

The other day, I finally went back to a coffee shop that I had last visited sometime in March 2020.

I'd grabbed coffee and snacks there from time to time, but I hadn't brought my laptop to do work there since right before the pandemic.

Going there used to be a key part of my routine. I would convince myself that a change of scenery was necessary in the middle of my workday—that I could not possibly get more work done in the same spot I'd been sitting in for the past three hours. And then I would leave home and sit in a different spot for the next three hours, surrounded by people and activity, food and beverages, and knock out the rest of my to-do list.

When the pandemic hit, there was no longer the possibility of a change of scenery. There was nowhere to go to be the calm eye of the hurricane amidst the hustle and bustle. It was quiet and boring and agonizing.

As an extrovert, I love collaboration and interaction. A phone call or a meeting hardly ever feels like work. Sitting at my laptop, though—that is often intensely difficult and requires a lot of my energy. After a while, I feel sluggish and resistant.

During the lockdown (and indeed, during most of the pandemic), my energy was low. I had a long list of non-negotiable tasks and projects to be completed, and there was nowhere else to go to add some variety to the day. I had to learn to work through that sludgy, sluggish feeling without the benefit of distraction, diversion, or intervention. I had to just sit there, think, and type.

This may seem obvious. What other choice did I have? However, there are lots of other options, like sleep, mind-altering substances, procrastination, avoidance, and so on. In the moment, I edited out these more appealing activities. In the midst of an already circumscribed life and routine, I narrowed my field of vision still further and just did what had to be done.

I may not have been a nurse working triage in a hospital overrun with Covid patients, but I took to my own work with all of the urgency and focus I could muster. It was a long, hard slog most days. The work took longer than I was used to, it was more arduous, and the results were weaker. But I did it. I made it through. In doing so, I built my mental and emotional resilience to a new level.

At this point, my work feels less heavy and frustrating. The daily fear of Covid has diminished, despite the fact that my area is having its worst outbreak of the entire pandemic.

And now, as a direct result of my pandemic training, I have better tools to deal with the day-to-day stress and challenges of life and work. I know that the discomfort I feel when I'm sitting in front of my laptop is something I can accept and work through. All I have to do is just sit there, think, and type.

If that's too much, I can skip the thinking part and just sit and type.

Eventually, whether it's the next hour, the next week, or the next year, I will find a sense of ease again. In the meantime, though, I'm doing what I must. I don't have to take it so seriously.

The other day, at the coffee shop, I felt that familiar weariness. This was after I had moved from home to my office and then office to coffee shop—that's a lot of changes of scenery for one morning. It was that bad.

The good news is that my weariness wasn't pandemic fatigue. Rather, it was the result of three straight weekends spent away from home, traveling to two different states and a foreign country. I was worn out from doing fun and interesting things for a change.

So I sat there with my laptop and latte, knowing that I had done everything I possibly could in order to create the perfect work environment. Therefore, the problem was me. The only thing off was my attitude. So I reminded myself that I just needed to sit, think, and type. I could do this. I was going to be fine.

There may be long-term changes I can make to my routine, habits, workload, or circumstances to diminish the lethargy I sometimes feel while I'm facing the day's work. But in a given day, there's no escape. It's too late to renegotiate my commitments or move things around. I gotta do what I gotta do. If I just sit, think, and type, I will make it to the end.

How about you? What are the actions that an outside observer would see if they watched you work? What has to be done? Would it help to take it less seriously?