You have to learn how to be in your space when you work from home. Please recognize that it’s a different place now.
Take my desk. In my mind, it is meticulously organized with gentle lighting and incense sticks. In reality, it looks like a paper monster vomited all over it. I avoid even looking at it.
Instead, I write on my laptop on my couch, legs propped up with an orthopedic wedge. Elvis, a senior poodle, lies on one side of the wedge. Riley, the Boston Terrier puppy, rests between my elbow and forearm as I type.
On this couch with my doggies is where I’ve discovered I work best.
petwork/gigwork/lifework 