A blog by Krista.

I have been working from home for almost a year now and I can say that, without a doubt that I love it. Not driving around wasting time at the drivethru, spilling coffee all over myself.

And that's a problem. I might love it too much.

I am very blessed to still be working, I'm not here to complain about it. I'm industrious, I love working and being focused on a task. There are very little distractions at home which makes it easier to get in to my work.

And that's a problem. I might love it too much.

We are supposed to be social beings, yet here I am, overly comfortable in my corner in the office, wearing soft clothes with socks. I've never been a dressy lady, even when I was coming and going from the office, but now I've hit a whole new level of being sans-style.

I'm also worried that I don't know how to talk to people.

How exactly do we talk about life now? All I am about now is work, my kid's current obsession with Sonic the Hedgehog, and how many dishes I can wash during my work breaks. What do people talk about? 

Our feelings? The pandemic? These unprecedented times?

I've become perfectly fine with being the most boring person on this entire planet of Earth. 

But that's another problem. I am not really fine with it at all. I'll be the first person to tell you that if you are struggling with sadness and mental health to reach out. But that's not for me, I'm not sick. I'm just boring.

Writing certainly helps, when I'm awake at night with the comforting glow of Netflix, rewatching Parks and Rec, listening to my cat howling downstairs for treats and wondering how I could be any less boring.

It's nice to write, even if I'm boring.