125. WFH (3/3)

 This is to be the last WFH session of the term and just as well as the novelty has worn off. 

I sit down at my desk, bored already. I haven't even bothered to clear it up and it is just a huge pile of papers, pens, paper clips and sticky notes (I hate the wretched little things). I struggle to find a pen that works. I blame it on the whole family. I buy pens in packs of 20 and I can never find one that works. Then I take a sip of Clippers Organic Breakfast tea. Instant calming effect. I'm good to go.

Not only am I early but I am first. Which makes me quite pleased with myself. A few minutes later, one by one, people start entering the real room (the old-fashioned crowds) and others (the cool crowds) appear on the screen. This is the last meeting of this term and still no-one has worked out how to look - if not like news presenters - at least neutral. I have: I turn the camera off. The sound is still as appalling as in meeting 1, crackling and echoing around the large and almost empty classroom. As for the camera shots ... Well, we already know too much about the camera shots ... Today we have such a close-up from one of the colleagues that we can only see half her head - the nose and the mouth. It gets scary as hell as she is trying to settle into her chair and is moving backwards and forwards towards the lens, so we see her approaching slowly until we see only her nose. A male colleague is wearing an open neck shirt and this time we have an interesting close-up on his neck and - very hairy - chest. And as for the person chairing the meeting, she takes up the whole screen, even the person co-chairing can only be recognised by the shoulder and sleeve of the jacket he is wearing, as for the others they might have left the room for all that we, WFH crowds, know.

In the chat box, someone is giving us a live running commentary of her whereabouts: Am leaving work - will be with you shortly - am driving - will stop soon - nearly there - still driving but not for long - have arrived - am parking now - parked now so see you soon - etc

A person in the group must be getting alarmed at the idea of someone attending a virtual meeting and texting at the same time (how is that even possible?) and writes: drive safely - not everyone here -

I want to test something too, like 'take a chill pill' but quite reasonably, I don't.

I am getting bored as the meeting proceeds with just the reciting of the comments and - probably, I can only guess - the nodding of the people in the meeting. Surely I can go peel a few spuds and listen in at the same time. I mean, the potato-peeling activity does not require much concentration, nor intellectual effort. I can still take part in the meeting. It works well, it is not unlike listening to Radio 2, much easier to join in the conversation. Even if Mrs B chairing the meeting is no Jeremy Vine ... So as I'm done with the potatoes I make for the carrots and before I know it I am planning a main dish of roasted winter vegetables. I go through the whole peeling and cutting part without anyone requesting my knowledgeable input. I get a sudden inspiration and - Jamie Oliver style - I chuck all the vegetables in a roasting tin, pour a third of a bottle of olive oil in (told you - Oliver style). Glug glug glug glug ...I am on automatic pilot now. I am Jamie Oliver, I am using my hands and am tossing and turning, feeling the slippery smoothness of the oil and the roughness of the coarse sea salt under my fingers. I am truly absorbed in the task, so much so that I can hear Jamie Oliver telling me to make sue all the vegetable chunks are covered in the fragrant oil. I love cooking and I am truly absorbed in the task when suddenly ...

'Mrs Fielding? ... Mrs Fielding? Are you there? ...'

'Where's she gone now that we need her?'

'Hello? Mrs Fielding?'

Oh no! They have a question for me! ... A question for me? But why on earth? Why me? ... Now? ... I head for the keyboard and the mouse and as I am about to click to activate the mike I realised I have oil all over my hands. So I yell.

'Hold on a second, coming!' 

Which of course is totally pointless because I know they cannot hear me. I lean over the bar to grab a tea-towel, nearly knock over a jug of water. I blame this on the whole family with a couple of swear words thrown in, after all the mike is off. The kitchen towel is now stuck on the hook. 

'Hello? Are you there?'

They are still calling. It must be an important question. Maybe they want to know about the roast vegetables? I feel I am in Narnia and they're stuck in the wardrobe while I am off in the snowy woods. The kitchen towel tears in two (my good Christmas one that Auntie Annie brought me back from Ireland  - I want to cry but everyone's still waiting for me.)

Finally my cleanish hands get the mike going. I sound perfectly calm, even sleepy and in a tone of voice which hopefully sounds like yes, am here, what's all the fuss about?, I say calmly and a touch haughtily and completely at random:

'Yes, I'm here. I don't think this is a problem, really.' 

'OK, so you don't mind. That's fine.'

And they move on! Almost killing my enthusiasm for the winter dish.