Scott Nishimura
The welcome-back gifts magazine staffers received upon their return to the office.
After eight weeks of working from home, the staff at Fort Worth Magazine returned to their original stomping ground Monday, greeted with gifts upon their arrival — a face mask, a bottle of hand sanitizer, a can of Lysol, and two No. 2 pencils to use for pushing buttons on the copy machine.
And while a return to the office is a small step toward normalcy, our editors agree that things aren't quite, well, normal. Here are their thoughts after the first week.
Brian Kendall: Admittedly, coming back to the office was a scary proposition. Count me among those who take this virus very seriously — perhaps to a point where I might become a newly christened germaphobe. Despite my fears, I’ve been impressed with the way management and my fellow coworkers have responded within the office environment. Since returning, I haven’t seen a single nose within the office (thanks to everyone wearing masks), we’re abiding by our Slack-only meetings rule, and every desk came conveniently equipped with Lysol and hand sanitizer. If everyone treats a return to normalcy with the same earnestness about COVID-19, I’m suddenly filled with faith that this may soon pass.
Samantha Calimbahin: It's nice to come back to something that's at least slightly closer to normal. But, I've got to admit — it's weird. The office is a tad quieter since people aren't so inclined to hang around desks and converse. Remembering to wear your mask as you move about the building can be cumbersome. And having to Lysol every surface you touch is certainly something to get used to. The upside: Everything smells good all the time.
Scott Nishimura:
We’ve been back in the office this week for the first time in two months. I’ve admitted to some sadness over an end to the daily routine I’d established at the patio table on the covered front porch of my 99-year-old bungalow on the Near Southside. Amid the COVID chaos, I found inspiration and peace in the nature around me. My leafy front yard and porch are shielded from the street by trees, seven feet of elevation (I call it the “grassy knoll”), and a robust row of boxwoods. The chirping birds foraging at the three feeders kept me company all day. I hung artwork on the porch wall, replaced an old ceiling fan, trimmed the shrubs, cut down a dead plum tree blocking my view of the sunrises, and restored an old lamp I welded together in high school shop, giving it new electric, spray paint, and shade.
I’m up most days by 5:30 a.m., and I read by lamplight, pushing ahead on the voluminous readings for a weekly theology class my wife and I take Tuesday nights at our church, this spring via Zoom. I’d go out for hour-long morning bike rides, and I’d be in my “office” chair in time for the daily 8:30 a.m. staff Zoom call. I swept the porch daily. I was hugely productive. COVID forced me to run interviews for stories by Zoom, instead of the normal in-person I like. Not because I’m an extrovert. I’m not. A professional acquaintance likes to say, of himself, “I’m an introvert forced to operate in an extrovert’s world.” That’s very much me. I was very comfortable on top of my home office perch.
This week has been jarring. We’ve established social distancing protocols, and I nabbed an office out of the deal. I brought in a file cabinet to reorganize my space and get the two-foot stack of materials off of my desk. I bought a full stock of office supplies. And I made a trip to Walmart last week to buy a turquoise mini-fridge that’s now stocked with cold refreshments. I’ve got my breakfast bars, cherry tomatoes, and LaCroix readily at hand. I’m a self-contained unit. Inside the office, no mask. Step outside, I have to wear a mask to move about. I’m still searching for the same inspiration and peace. My office window has a view of the defunct Denny’s next door. But I’m still working. And that’s a lot to be thankful for.