Work From Home Dilemma

This week, some guys have been working on rebuilding our front porch.  They showed up on Monday, right after five inches of snow had fallen and we had not really planned on getting a new porch in the snow, but hey, it's April in Wisconsin, so I guess that means SNOW.  Okay, I'm getting riled up about the weather and that's not what I want to write about.

I'm done with this snow business.

I work from home on Mondays. I count on Mondays as my serious, get stuff done day. I spend the morning working on grading and catching up on a class I do with adult learners and then I eat lunch and then I prepare for the week for my traditional undergrad class. After that, I allow myself a walk. Then I catch up on whatever housework needs to be done and perhaps get started on dinner. Mondays always end with me leaving for yoga class at 6:20.  I've done this since the beginning of the semester and I feel like me and Monday have a thing.

So these workers show up and they're drilling and sawing and there is a copious amount of noise and occasionally it feels like they have taken off the front of our house. 

But more importantly.

I feel like these workers are judging me. They don't KNOW that when I'm sitting on the loveseat with the cat next to me and my laptop open that I'm grading and returning emails and being productive. They don't know that when I disappeared upstairs for two hours that I was working hard on my PowerPoint slides for the week. We don't have kids, so I look like a stay at home wife. I mean, that's fine if that's what you are, but I feel like I'm being judged.  Like those workers are working hard in the cold and the snow and I'm just playing around on my laptop.

Then, on Tuesday, I ran to the grocery store in the morning and the workers were on a lunch break when I left for class, so I'm pretty sure they think I stayed home all day AGAIN.

And on Wednesday, we didn't leave until almost 11 in the morning and I'm pretty sure they think I don't WORK.

I take heart that this morning, when it was snowing like stupid, at least Dr. BB was out there with me when I was shoveling. 

Why do I care? I mean, they're getting paid no matter what, right?  So what does it matter if they think we're somehow independently wealthy (ha!) and I just sit at home and watch Zelda all day? I hate that I started avoiding the front room altogether because I didn't want them to see me sitting down for five minutes.  I hate that I care. I really do.

I'm hoping that they'll finish today and I can go back to my normal activities tomorrow without worrying about their impressions of this woman who seems to exclusively shovel, fill bird feeders, and compulsively vacuum.