"How Are You?"

Two months in from the return to the office after 5 1/2 years of successfully doing the job remotely, I can attest the following:

1. Meetings are easier to get to.

2. My mental health is worse.

Now, I have to say that maybe it's the seasonal depression creeping in a little early this year. Or maybe it's that Michelle was passed over for two technical writing jobs with the company and the only hint I might have as to why is a co-worker flapping a company policy about spouses not working together in the same department in my face. Because apparently we could do dastardly things in a highly-controlled document editing environment.

But no, I think it's the "off remote work" thing.

I may need to explore whether I can work from home one day a week. But I'm still irked the situation had to change at all. I mean, I get it. In a sense. And I'm glad I have a job. Don't get me wrong there. Still.

At least I'm not like those poor guys on the Russian front, as Dad would say. I watched him get the Sunday Scaries enough to know.

I was going to post the first three paragraphs of this on social media, but self-censored. Better here where nobody reads things.

It's too quiet here, for starters.

People keep coming by in the quiet and talk to other people about how they're leaving this company - a fresh quote today: "Working here has sucked all the joy out of life."

I stay because I've seen the local job market for people of my skill set and advanced age and know it just ain't gonna happen.

I used to enjoy this job. It was a fun challenge, working to help the projects move forward. But those projects - as projects do - ended. But I still need a job. Now, it's less fun. Much more time spent swatting at flies than feeling like I'm helping.

Maybe some of that is on me.

But some of it ain't.

I don't know that I want them to send a squad to help.