Writing a Novel, Step 7: Screw the commute.

In my previous writing process entries, I’ve mentioned how challenging it was to get a fulltime job and figure out how to commute to work. Story has been on my backside ever since I accepted the job, but since I bought myself a PC for my birthday, Story wants nothing to do with us commuting any longer.

Ideally, I’d be my own boss. I’d leave my boss’ nonsense behind and freelance on my own. I’ve been looking for alternatives ever since my bullshit meter broke that day, but to be honest, it’s not as easy as I’d imagined to be a freelance audio transcriber. I can’t quit this job yet, however much I wanted to.

Everything was going great at work precisely because my boss had been MIA for about a month. He’d send us work from wherever he was (I don’t really care to know). But then this last week, he showed up for three days in a row. All the toxicity came right back into the office. We were all wishing he would just go away and leave us be for yet another month, but then on the third day, he pretty much stomped on my broken bullshit meter.

I had a problem with my audio on Thursday. It sounded like crap, because it was crap. I explained it to Bossman. “No, you’re wrong! This audio is absolutely, perfectly clear! It must be your earphones.”

Okay, number one, I wasn’t suggesting a war when I mentioned the audio’s quality. That overreaction was unnecessary. Secondly, my earphones? I’ve been using my pair since day one and not had any problems with them. Thirdly, how is any of this my fault? He’s the one who chooses audio for us, and clear audio has been a fantasy. We mostly get stuff that would make anyone’s ears bleed, basically the worst audio that the people on Rev.com won’t touch. That is how I’ve made my living, ladies and gentlemen, by hurting my ears and my brain.

I’d had it. I don’t do confrontations very well. And then the man ran away before we could speak like adults about this- as usual. So, on my way out of the office, I stopped to speak to my friendly workplace security guard. He’s been surprisingly full of wisdom, and very easy to talk to, which is a high compliment coming from a wallflower such as myself. I’d mentioned some weeks ago that I was saving up for a PC, so he asked me, “Did you get the thing?”

“Yes I did,” I said. I was surprised that he remembered.

“Good, good,” he replied. “Now you can be completely independent.”

I smiled at that.

It’s been about two weeks since I bought my laptop. After it passed all my tests, I kind of put it at the back of my mind. I’d decided to see the month out, then figure out what to do next. But then my boss showed up and stomped on all my buttons. When the security guard mentioned regaining my independence, my mind started racing all over the place.

Could I really? I mean, I’ve only had my laptop for such a short while, and it’s refurbished, so who knows what could happen? And it’s the middle of them month! I can’t just announce to my boss that I’m done seeing his fugly mug and will be working from home from now henceforth.

“Actually, you can,” said Story. “Albeit not so… directly.”

A strategy pinged into my head: Ask for three days to work from home, test drive it, see how it feels like, how it works out. Then, tell the boss that for reasons that are too personal to explain (if he insists, say it’s family stuff), you’ve had to relocate to a much farther neighborhood that commuting would be unsustainable.

Enter anxiety.

Do I really want to take such responsibility? When things go wrong with electricity blackouts and PC crashes and dead WiFi, I can point my finger at the boss and say, “None of this is my fault.” Sure, working from home has way too many perks to ignore, but still… There is comfort in the commute-

“Take that back, right this minute,” said Story.

Right, right. The manuscript. We’d have more time and energy for the manuscript. Okay, fine.

So, starting Monday, no stepping over trash, no skidding over mud… Oh, didn’t I mention that? Kenya is enjoying the heaviest rains in a century. Where I live, the roads turn to mush. It’s been a sheer effort of physical and mental will just to make it to my bus stop at 5:45 AM every day. I was glad for the rains, but nowadays it feels like every day it falls, someone dies. It’s already claimed hundreds.

I notified Bossman of my three days’ absence, and he agreed to it.

“Breath,” says Story. “The sky won’t fall if you miss a day.”

It’s now almost 11 o’clock Monday morning, and Bossman hasn’t sent any work or even communicated. My colleagues at the office are bored out of their minds, and yes, I did ask them if there was any work at their end. On such days, we’d probably be at the office just venting our frustrations and disappointments over commuting all the way on a really dull, cold, rainy morning. But today, I can just write my blog post and go back to bed, curled up with my hot water bottle and a good book. This just might be the best career move I’ve made yet.