Mostly I love working at home in my little office with all its comforts.
Today was not one of those days.
I should have high-tailed it out of here the moment it was obvious everything was going down hill. And that moment came when I called my 10 interview and they wanted a third person involved who wasn't available today. That's when I should have gotten dressed and bolted for Panera's.
My husband came home around the time I was on the phone. The furnace guy was coming today to do his annual furnace cleaning and general care thing. He was later than expected, so the husband was bopping around the house. I shut the door to my office to signal I was working and needed privacy. A shut door, as you probably guessed, is a clear invitation to "walk in, she must not be busy." I think that happened every time I was on the phone.
The furnace guy came. Luckily, my office is not directly above the furnace, but that didn't stop the oil fumes from permeating into the room. Did I mention that I am hypersensitive to fumes? I smell fumes that supposedly have no odor, so just imagine what oil fumes do to me. I would have left then, but now I was expecting some phone calls, so I just opened windows in my office.
It's not a warm day . . . but at least it wasn't snowing like it was on Monday. I put on a sweater, and I'm listening to the new baby birds chirping right outside my window.
My college-aged, home-for-the-summer son decided that this would be a good day to clean his bedroom. Next thing I hear is loud pounding. Did I mention his bedroom is right next door to my office? I call to him. He pops his head in my partially open door (I needed the ventillation) and says, "I'm hammering my bookshelves. Are you on the phone? If you are, I'll stop."
At that point, I decided that concentrating on any work was going to be difficult. I put my daily assignment to bed, took two aspirin, and now I'm going to watch mindless tv.