Working from home, or not

An organisation called Work Wise is telling me that it is National Work From Home Day today (note all those capital letters trying to make it something important and official). So why is this making me feel hacked off?

I work from home every day. Or not. Yesterday I went fishing, today I might get to the gym and I need to mow the lawn. Mowing the lawn is the nearest I can get to what remains the prevailing definition of work, i.e. something you would rather not be doing. Yet even that is satisfying when you stand back and look at the difference you have made to the garden in such a short time.

I might even go fishing again but, since I will probably write about my fishing trip and get paid for doing so, will that be work? This work thing follows me around. At least blogging here I'm safe. I don't get paid to do this. So I am not yet working from home.

The moment I do start working I'm going to be irritated that I'm doing something that someone somewhere has said that I should be doing today just to make some kind of a point. So I'm off to the gym which is worse than work.

Another thing, while mowing the lawn just now I did a lot of thinking and working things through in my head about things that can be classed as work: columns, features etc. On reflection this might count as work . Damn it.


NB. As it turned out I got a lot done today: mowed the lawn this morning, wrote one and a half columns, dealt with some calls and emails, went to the gym, walked the dog, played three sets of tennis with George (beat him) and yes, now am completely but pleasantly knackered. But that's not work. It's living.