My friend Meg of A Practical Wedding (even those not getting married should read this wonderful unusual blog) noted that she is an extrovert, and this partially means that working from home is good for her. She's in touch with people and friends but less distracted by them. No lingering at the water cooler. She points out that not everyone needs to be a loner or in need of structure, because some can structure themselves and blossom without the distraction of company. Now mind you, I think Meg is BRILLIANT at both writing and running a business, the latter in a way that boggles my mind and makes me frequently ask her for advice.
I've known her while she transitioned to working full-time at home, and she was actually one of the ones who asked me about how to handle working alone and whether she should look at doing an office-share. And lo and behold, she has discovered beauties of independence that were unexpected, shining out of nowhere.
Meg is the one who gave me the idea for A Printable Press. Meg is the one who gave me tips on how it could work. Meg's blog is the first one I advertised with, and Meg is still the first one I would go to for business advice. She also lives on the opposite coast so I can't see her own home office space. What is it like? Is it messy? Is it clean?
She is the one who so aptly pointed out that you may be suited to work from home for completely unexpected reasons! Anything I say is colored by my own joys and sorrows, or from what I've gathered from other freelance friends. Whose spaces are messy, clean, paint-splotched, tech-filled, noisy with loud music, quiet with NPR, quiet with cat purrs.
Now that I think about it, perhaps even I work well at home because of a certain kind of company. Television and radio give me that little bit of non-business babble, and my cat catches my eye with her beauty and sleepy blinks and leg-twining. Ha, here she comes to drink out of my water glass. She also drinks out of the water dish I use when doing watercolor, I think she prefers it when it's inky and blue.
Get a job, cat. Or rather, work from home, because I like you being here.
And thank you Meg, for your insights and all you've done for me. I raise my inky glass to you and clink your probably more clean one from an opposite coast at the wonders of working from home.