What better time than now to rejuvenate the GBQueue blog? We keep talking about creative communication, outreach, thought leadership, and expanding our audience. Well, I can assure you my intentions and this blog are capable of all of those things; except maybe the thought leadership. We’ll leave that part to future blog guests who are actually thought leaders, and far more capable of sharing something intriguing than myself; perhaps the likes of Chris Mast, Casey Grisez or Steve Boston (stay tuned) will bless us with their expertise.
Let’s go ahead and get it out of the way now… the laundry closet. The truth is that my wife is really good at her job, so she’s also really important to her employer. That’s not news to many of you who know either of us. But the cold hard fact is that she gets the office setting, and well me, there’s no daylight down here where I’m typing from. It’s better than a closet; she bought me a nice desk, there is a nice floor and even some shiplap on the walls, albeit really bad lighting for Zoom meetings. If you’ve got me on the phone, you’ll experience an occasional load of laundry, which ends in the usual ding that can be heard all over the house. There’s also a nice loud furnace in the room next door, which has calmed down a little with the recent arrival of warmer weather. Yet, while no one has confirmed being able to hear the rumble of that monster, it does still prohibit me from being able to hear anyone clearly on the phone. And quite frequently, with two boys, there are loud footsteps aplenty overhead that feel like they may be coming through the floor at any minute.
Speaking of laundry, we’re going through it like crazy right now, obviously the result of being home ALL DAY, EVERY DAY for two months now. And that grocery bill? Wow. Eating every meal at home has me making large grocery runs every 4 to 5 days, and doing dishes as if I work the dinner shift on a cruise line (pre-Coronavirus). However, my third most important job at this point (as I’m sure applies to the overwhelming majority of those of you reading this), “stay-at-home teacher” which is scheduled to end this week with the official end of the school year. It actually hasn’t been that bad. I enjoyed being a student, and I enjoy the subjects of math, history, geography, and will dabble in an occasional reading hour with each of the boys, if necessary.
My typical day for the last eight weeks (hoping most of you can relate):
- Roll out of bed after being punched in the ribs because one of the iPads won’t connect for an 8 am elementary Zoom meeting.
- Shower if I’m lucky, and get dressed if I’ve really hit the jackpot (at least from the waist up).
- Eat whatever breakfast leftovers are still sitting at the kitchen table while trying not to watch the morning news (too depressing).
- Attempt to log in to my work computers (yes, multiple) and start working until I’m interrupted by a 3rd grade Zoom meeting taking place two floors above me.
- Start responding to emails I didn’t get to from the day before, and occasionally listen to a webinar recording on business development and sales during these crazy times.
- Interrupted again because Kindergarten learning hour is about to begin.
- Secretly retreat to the basement to actually work for an hour. Again, only the lucky survive.
- Break up a fight, threaten no iPads, make lunch and then tell both kids how deep a hole in the back yard must be dug to bury a body (my posthole digger is also strategically placed in the garage so that I can just point to it).
- Send the boys outside rain or shine, sleet or snow, and they can’t come back until dinner time (whoever cries first automatically loses whatever game they’re playing).
- 2 hours’ worth of quiet time to work, typically the most productive of the day, also on the 3rd cup of coffee by now.
- Dinner, exhausted, bed, wake, repeat.
I’ll go ahead and say it… how many accountants are begging to go back to work right now?! I am. And I’m not discounting what many of you actual accountants are doing on a daily basis. This is the time of year we live for – you’ve busted your tail for a few months, crossed the finish line, and now you’re focused on summer vacation plans – in any other normal year. Not this year. I’m also well aware many of you have more difficult circumstances and daily tasks at hand. But please, the office, I’m longing for you. In the meantime, we’re all in this together! (editor’s note: no longer cliché)