A Rebel’s True Thoughts on Returning to the Office

By Laurel Maxwell

I like my quiet mornings. The slow ease into the day like placing eggs in boiling water. Gently so they won’t crack the minute they hit the hard bottom. Bubbles lazily making their way to the surface.

 I enjoy being able to sit in silence. Listen to the birds outside my window, the beep and drill of construction down the block. Revel in the stillness the day holds in its unfolding. The waves continuing to wash away the beach, gulls circling for a beak of breakfast. On some days I prefer working from home. To not get out of my sweatpants, keep my glasses on. Pad around in my slippers.

This morning I read an article about the anxiety surrounding returning to work in person. The re-learning of interacting with colleagues. Some whom you have never even met. How so many of us are having to transition back to a place wrought with its own harshness. The need to fill office chairs which sat vacant for two years. The organization I work for hasn’t really had the formal discussion of what it means to be back in the office as I track more empty chairs on Thursdays and Fridays.

In a job I prefer having the flexibility to do what needs to get done, to create my own projects. I don’t need the constant pat on the back as I clock in and out. Over time I have come to expect less outward recognition from colleagues and supervisors.  My feeling of accomplishment of a job well done is praise enough.

I prefer things organized, in its place. It drives me crazy with so many people using one space. The shared desk at work, my colleagues who put things away in different spots. Where is the stapler, the adult scissors?  My brain works better when I know where everything is. I can focus on what really matters rather than searching for the basic tools of everyday existence.

For me control is about looking at systems and seeing how they could be improved. Asking questions about why something has also been done that way. Is there a way to make it better? For me, being a fixer, an improver is a way of being in charge.

I’ve always been interested in trying to understand people. What makes them tick? What makes them respond the way they do? Especially the hard ones. The colleagues who say nothing at all with their headphones plastered to their ears, hands glued to the keyboard. The ones who take feedback as an attack on their personality. Slam the door too hard on the way out to make their point known. Who do their work well yet sigh dramatically when asked to step in. I don’t play these games that don’t benefit anybody.

I’ve developed thick skin and try not to let it pierce me too much. Over time I’ve learned I’m not wrong for stating what I need from people, and that usually my intuition is right.  When I am able to trust my intuition more, I feel less anxious that I did something wrong. I know it is possible to change the narrative to what is working/not working instead of right/wrong.

Every day I go into the office expecting a fight, for the shoe to drop. To be told, “we’ve taken the side of so-and-so…”

That your voice no longer matters.

Laurel is a writer and poet based in Northern California. Having worked in various roles she realizes the most important thing about a job is the people and the community they create.  One of her life goals is to visit as many islands as possible.