Remember when Working from Home, or WFH as it’s now known, was a privilege? Generally allowed by exception when a deadline loomed or there was a genuine need to be at home. Back in the day, pre-pandemic obviously, bosses didn’t trust individuals to work from home. They, the bosses could be trusted, that goes without saying, but not the rest of the riff raff, let them run amok who knows what they would get up to. But the pandemic changed all that. Overnight, WFH became an imperative, and all of a sudden those subordinates were trusted after all. Could this be a change of heart and a move to a more trusting relationship, or a realisation that the business needed their staff to keep working? I’ll let you decide.
Anyway, a few months ago I was WFH, along with half of the office - since the end of the pandemic employers have had a hard time getting staff back into their buildings. The proverbial genie was out of the bottle so to speak. It was the usual routine; set up the laptop and monitor on the dining room table, open the bi-fold doors to let some cooler air into the room and get stuck in. And by get stuck in, I mean start the first of many video calls.
All was going well, and I was getting through the business. I had just started a call with my boss and the rest of our team when an uninvited visitor wandered in through the open door. A small bird, nothing more exotic than a common sparrow, decided to take a look around. Inevitably, there were some cereal crumbs on the kitchen floor which the bird cleared up.
“Well that’s one less thing for me to worry about before Sarah gets back,” I thought to myself as the call continued.
“Is everything alright Graeme, you seem a little distracted,” my boss enquired.
“Yeah, all good. A bird has just helped itself to my cereals but I’m good,” I replied.
The call continued, but the bird showed no signs of leaving. Clearly having struck cereal gold, it decided to see what further treats were in store and so it hopped into the living area. I could see it out of the corner of my eye. So far no harm was being done.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go and deal with the intruder?” my boss asked.
“No it’s alright….. I think…..errr, actually on second thoughts I’d better go and deal with it…..it’s on the back of the couch!”
I had sudden imagines of the visitor pooping on the couch and wondering how on earth I would explain that to Sarah. I put my connection on pause and went off into the living area. The bird, taking one look at my advancing frame, hopped off the back of the couch and onto the arm of the adjacent chair.
“Now come on,” I said to my unwanted guest, “play fair. You’ve had your breakfast so how about you head back outside and join the rest of your feathered friends.”
I swear I’m not making this up, but that bird cocked its head as if to say “Why would I want to do that?” and flew over my head and hid behind the sofa.
“For crying out loud, I’ve got a bloody job to do!” I exclaimed in frustration.
Since lockdown, the back of the sofa had became a storage area for spare IT equipment and other work related paraphernalia. The bird was well out of reach and it knew it. Sensing the battle of wits slipping away from me, I opened to front door in the hope that seeing clear sky would entice the cheeky bleeder to make a break from freedom.
No such luck as there was no sign of movement. This bird clearly had steel resolve. Okay, there was nothing for it. If I wanted to take back control I was going to have to move the sofa. I started to pull one end away from the wall and the bird, presumably sending that his new found resting place was being invaded, hopped out back into the middle of the room, leaving a little leaving present on a disused keyboard in the process.
“You dirty…..right that does it. Get out!” I shouted, pointing towards the open front door.
I slowly crept forward, narrowing the angles so the intruder had limited option, “Carefully does it,” I muttered under my breath.
“Oh, no!”
I suddenly realised my error - I’d left the stairs completely unguarded. The last thing I wanted was the bird to seek refuge upstairs. It was too late, the bird had already noticed my glaring mistake and was eyeing up a potential new area for investigation.
“Oh no you don’t!” I said and made a dash for the bottom of the stairs to hopefully block the birds passage upstairs.
The bird, weighing up its options, decided he’d had enough fun for one morning and hopped through the open front door…
…right into the paws of a waiting cat. A cat who probably couldn’t believe his luck. There his was, relaxing in a sunny spot, minding his own business, when a bird literally landed in his lap.
I’ve got no idea where the cat came from - none of the neighbours own one - and to this day I haven’t seen it since. Nature can be so cruel.
“Well that was unfortunate,” I said to no one in particular and went back to my laptop to rejoin the call. Not before closing both doors of course.
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