My Working-At-Home Oath

A few weeks ago I alluded to my working-at-home oath. Now that I'm no longer facing people every day, I wanted to give myself some ground rules so that I don't become too much like a caveman.

(1) I will shower and dress daily. Ah yes. The luxury of working from home is that no one will ever know that you haven't brushed your teeth or gotten out of your jammies. I could easily throw my hair in a ponytail and consider myself "dressed" wearing the same clothes I had on the night before. I could skip my usual routine of blow drying my hair and putting on makeup, but I won't. There's something about seeing myself in the mirror looking like I was being held hostage in a dungeon that zaps a little bit of my confidence. Right now, I need all the confidence I have left to place bids on projects that have a high probability of being awarded to someone else. Plus, it seems kind of unfair for Steve, who is currently my financial backbone, to go off to a client and come home to someone who looks like Pepe the Prawn from the Muppets. Just because I may not be making much money doesn't mean I have to look like I'm homeless. With that said, my rule is that I must be dressed and groomed enough that I could face Steve's business partner, the UPS guy/gal, or the stay-at-home moms at Costco.

Caveats:
• I'm sick enough that I'm unable to work.
• I will be doing some form of manual labor such as resealing the deck. Of course, if this is the case then I'm technically not working anyway.

(2) I will continue to work out. This involves setting the alarm and getting to the gym or the trail just like I was doing when I actually had to go into the office. BTW, I am sleeping in until 5:00 a.m. these days; it's amazing how that extra 30 minutes in the morning makes me feel more human. Yes, there will be days when the snooze button wins and I oversleep. Just like before, I'll have to make it a point to either work out later in the day, or make up for it later in the week. "Why bother?" you ask. Just like getting showered and dressed, working out makes me feel more alert and better able to tackle the day. Now that we're paying for our own health insurance, it's even more important for us to maintain our health. Case in point: Steve's high cholesterol reading from two years ago resulted in his premium being almost $100 more per month than mine. Exercise also ties into rule #3 below. Since we're living on a tighter budget, I can't go buying bigger clothes for my bigger self.

Caveats:
• Sickness.
• Looming deadline that requires extra hours.

(3) I will not shop for new clothes. I have a lot of clothes. Scratch that. I have an obscene amount of clothes. This is partly due to (a) I like shopping for clothes, and (b) I keep stuff forever. Forever as in I still have jeans that I bought from Kohl's when Steve and I first bought our house in 1997. They've got holes all over and are about as outdated as Obama's infamous mom jeans, but I love lounging around in them. Plus, they're now short enough that I can wear flat shoes with them. Anyway, back to my point...

I don't need any more clothes. In fact, since I no longer have to dress to go into an office, I could probably get rid of some. I've been reading more about recycling/redesigning your existing clothes on sites such as Made by Lex, Wardrobe Refashion, and Turn-Style. I have to admit that this refashioning business appeals to my crafty side so I may have to try it.

Caveats:
• New workout gear only when my existing gear starts to cause bodily harm to me (chafing, gagging because of imbedded stink, lack of stability/support) or to others (you can see through material, smell me before you see me, public indecency due to shrinkage).
• Someone gives me a gift card.