There’s something important about my new job that I have thus far neglected to mention. Something besides the fact that it’s a hush-hush position doing 007-type activities all day, every day. I’ve been putting off going public with this because it’s bound to make me unpopular. In fact, it already has.

I’m serious. The few people I have confided in have responded with this strange surprised/irritated look, like I just won the lottery. Their eyes narrow and though they try to be congratulatory, their expression silently shouts: Not fair! How come you get to do that!

That’s what my wife said when she learned the details of my new gig. She used those exact words while stomping around the kitchen, Mexican fire burning in her Mexican eyes.

In her defense, it really isn’t fair. But it is awesome.

Those faithful readers who have endured this blog since its inception, way back in the early 2000s (actually, it only seems like it’s been around that long) may remember that I once lamented the loss of my job while simultaneously celebrating the fact that I no longer had to report to a cubicle each morning for eight-plus hours of dull, gray, prairie-dog-like captivity. I believe I described office life as a somewhat sad existence, all the while reeling from a panicked desperation to make a living. I was quite conflicted and even prayed along those lines. Something to the effect of: Help, God! I need a job…! But… um… please, please not in a cubicle!

Turns out, God answers prayer. One of the few things about my new employment that I am at liberty to disclose, but which I may regret telling you, is that I get to work from home. Or as I like to call it: whiskey foxtrot hotel (wfh).

Left to right: Poe, Hemingway, Vonnegut, Van Gogh - colleagues in my new “office.”

Hang on. I know we have ALL been working from home since early in this ill-fated year. But I’m not talking about a temporary remote situation. This is all distance, all the time. During COVID-19 season and beyond. Forever and ever, amen.

When, in one of several interviews with this organization, they asked if I was okay, if I would mind, working from home rather than in their office, my voice nearly cracked as I replied, “Um... no... I guess not.” And then, muting the phone, I performed an entire section of Riverdance right there in the spare bedroom with far more energy and flare than Michael Flatley ever displayed.

As you can imagine, the advantages of this arrangement are legion. First, besides no cubicle (yes!), there’s no commute. No commute means more time on both ends of the day. It also means no traffic - no delays, no drivers exchanging Pittsburgh greetings, no bums on street corners giving you the stink eye, no hunting for a parking spot... and, happily, no frequent trips to the gas station to fill up my fuel-guzzling pickup. It also translates into things like fried eggs and salsa for lunch, breaks to walk the dogs, breaks to annoy the neighbors with my guitar, and the opportunity to drop down and do pushups every hour on the hour just because I can!

While teleconferencing does require clothing, as everyone knows, it does not require pants. My new work attire is a polo shirt (for those meetings), shorts and flip flops. In the afternoons, when it gets hot upstairs and the west-facing window glows with harsh summer sunlight, transforming my “office” into a suburban sauna, I can either take my company-supplied laptop downstairs or remove my shirt and shout, “This is Sparta!” Sometimes, I do both.

Today, I was thinking about how great this is when, out of the blue, I had an issue with my laptop. I ended up having to take it to an IT guy at the real office about 30 minutes north of our home. This was a bona fide tragedy! Not just because I couldn’t get my work done (and trust me, there was plenty of work to do), but also because I had to change into business casual (including pants!), get into my truck, and drive up there and back. It was horrible!

There are, of course, disadvantages to wfh. For instance, your wife might think that since you “whiskey foxtrot hotel,” you spend your days lounging around and have plenty of time to do the dishes, vacuum the living room, clean out the garage, run by the store for bananas, pick up the Dyson that “won’t lose suction” but did lose suction and had to be repaired and is now waiting at the shop, etc.

“Life isn’t fair. And sometimes, that’s okay.”

Thankfully, my workload is heavy and growing, and I’m so busy that I don’t have time to feel bad about not remembering to run the dryer or fold the towels.

My days are now decidedly non-cubicle, uncorporate, void of Dockers, button downs and loafers, abounding in inventive and timely refreshments, filled with an eclectic menu of music, spontaneous exercise, bare feet, and lunch breaks in the backyard, book in hand.

See, I knew you wouldn’t like it. I mean, it’s not fair, right? But as a wise man once said: “Life isn’t fair. And sometimes, that’s okay.” Actually, I just now made that up.

Editor’s Note: I’d like to give big shout out to all of our veterans and members of the military - like my badass wife - and our law enforcement heroes - like Ruselis Perry - who have and continue to risk their lives for our freedom. This 4th of July (and every other day of the year) you all deserve a huge THANK YOU! for your faithful and courageous service.