I'm at home today slogging through revisions/additions to my manuscript, trying to ignore that it is a beautiful, sunny, low 70s day outside. I see now the benefits of a windowless office.
Periodically I decide that I am going to work at home, and it usually has a moderate degree of sucess. My motivation for the home-office work has varied from lack of transportation to concern that I will need to work at home once I have kids, so I better learn how now. Today it's a combo. I'm on a minimal driving kick (enviro-concerns + high gas prices), but too lazy to bike. Plus, my laptop and a goodly number of journal articles were already at home, all spread out on my desk. Plus, nobody was going to be around my office today, and its no fun to be in that giant cold windowless room without someone with which to comiserate. Or distract me. Anyways, I decided to stay home.
My husband says I can work at home as long as I am just as (un)productive as I would be at the office. So by his criteria, today is (mostly) a success. I was at my computer by 9, finished reading the news and blogs by ~9:30 and then worked solidly 'til noon, when I reheated leftovers for lunch. So far so good, but since noon my work ethic has gone downhill. I took a long lunch break (to work on weeding the garden and read the mail) and now I've revised my way up to the section in the paper where I no longer feel as confident about what I am saying. So I am looking for any excuse to procrastinate (hence the blogging). At least I've let some work emails pile up, so I can legitimately spend some time answering them without feeling too guilty about my half-assed discussion and introduction sections. Oh, and I still don't have any conclusions. Well, I do, just not written down.
OK, that's too depressing. I'm going back to work (sort of).