Struggling to cope now your partner is your office space invader? LOCKDOWN LIVING
Millions of us have suddenly been forced to turn our homes into a shared place of work – and it’s not for everyone. Flic Everett has practical advice if it’s proving difficult
ntil very recently, for most of us, working from home was a pleasant little fantasy, involving lie-ins, watching Flog It! and wearing pyjamas all day. It’s unlikely that many of us ever factored our partners into that scenario. Nor that we ever stopped to really consider that the reality of working from home may, in fact, be a nightmare of noisy calls, untidiness and minor irritations building to a crescendo of resentment.
But now, of course, that fantasy has become reality.
Millions of couples, in the wake of the government’s coronavirus lockdown, have had to hastily adapt the family home to now double as a shared office – and, in some cases, school.
Virtually overnight, with no time to get used to the new regime of shared space, random crumb-scattering and booming conference calls, many of us have exchanged an office full of colleagues for… just the one person.
Coping with this unexpected – and for many, unwanted – turn of events is a challenge. But don’t panic! Having lived through this period of adjustment myself, I am happy to report that it is not only possible. Sometimes, it can be fun.
I have shared an office, and cottage, with my partner Andy for the past four years. Andy owns and manages a nearby holiday house that sleeps 10, so he also works from home, doing admin daily. (Currently, sadly, said admin involves cancelling bookings and calling the bank).
The office used to be Andy’s alone, and still boasts his enormous varnished pine workstation that resembles the deck of an ocean liner. I, meanwhile, sit typing at my great-greataunt Annie’s cramped Victorian writing desk in the corner.
The office also doubles as the spare room, and is where our two dogs and cat like to congregate during the day, to be near us. Often I will be on the phone to a colleague or interviewee, attempting to maintain an air of quiet professionalism, while Andy’s behind me, pacing up and down on his mobile like Dom Joly, shouting: “You need to turn on to the Loch Road – No, the LOCH – go past the fish farm. I said FISH, yes…” to holiday guests, or losing his temper because the hot tub cleaning chemicals haven’t been delivered as promised. Then there’s the occasional animal-based scuffle over territory. I have lost count of the number of my “calm, professional” calls that have featured a high-pitched, angry yipping in the background.
It’s also very difficult to think straight when Andy’s watching TV in the living room. He is a news junkie, and is fundamentally unhappy without a 24/7 drip-feed of political analysis. He has a burning urge to know what’s happening in the world at all times, perhaps due to having lived the majority of his life in the Highlands equivalent of Hobbiton, where the biggest drama is the Post Office closing early. That’s all fine, except it’s hard to concentrate on writing cheery, light-hearted recipe features when the lunchtime newsreader is booming through the door. It also means he has a tendency to suddenly manifest by my desk like someone from Rentaghost, to tell me what new geopolitical outrages foreign governments are committing.
We can also wrangle for several hours about who is going to make the next cup of tea. There’s no boss in our office, obviously, so it works on a communist basis – whoever’s need is greater generally wins.
The upside is that, now we are used to it and have learnt to fully respect each other’s space, if I hold up a hand when I’m on the phone, he generally knows it means “This is an important call, do NOT let the puppy come in.”
It’s also good to have someone to talk things through with. Andy is usually done and dusted by 5pm, whereas my work can often trail on all evening. Still, when we are both done we make a point of talking about our days and enjoying each other’s company.
Others, though, are still getting used to this new proximity.
Gin Lalli, a psychotherapist, and her husband Anil, a software programmer, have been married for 20 years. Though Anil has always worked from their home in Edinburgh, Gin has recently shifted from her therapy rooms to the dining table, where she continues to treat patients via Skype or phone.
“We are managing the new situation by codes,” she explains. “When my door is closed he can come in – but he has to be quiet. If I have client calls, I put headphones on anyway, for confidentiality.” Every morning, Gin tells Anil the times that he “must not enter on pain of death”.
Noise is also an issue, she admits. “I can talk very loudly, without realising, when I’m doing a presentation or webinar. And he regularly gets up from his desk, usually just when I’m really concentrating, and starts speaking to me about something. This has been interesting as I know I used to do that a lot to him – I can see now why he would ignore me…”
This is similar to our now-established lunchtime routine, whereby I attempt to read my book while eating vegetarian leftovers, and Andy wanders in to eat a ham sandwich and update me on the news.
Gin says the upside is, “I can ask him for advice immediately – he’s great at being my IT department. And I supply him with regular cups of tea in return.”
She is also fascinated to see a different side to Anil in close-up.
“I knew he was disciplined about working at home, but I think he’s amazing now. He has such a strict routine and he’s very focused. I’m learning a lot from him.”
Honesty is key, adds Gin. “We’ve both made an agreement to be more truthful if we need some alone time and not to be offended. I also need to be a bit tidier!”
In my case, I can be a bit too honest. “Turn it down!” I yell when Andy’s watching TV in the next room. Or, “Stop drinking tea so loudly!” when I’m trying to concentrate in the same one.
That’s why it is important to set boundaries, says psychologist Natasha Tiwari (natashatiwari.co.uk).
“Have clear rules on times that you’ll both be working and who’s claiming which space,” she advises. “And ideally, work with headphones on as much as you can, so as not to interrupt each other.”
It’s vital to agree your working hours when you’re at home – particularly if there are children in the mix, says psychotherapist Naomi Segal (welldoing. org). “Discuss when you’ll both clock out for the day. Each of you may have assumptions around how this may happen, and it may create tension if the way you share the space isn’t agreed beforehand,” she says.
Setting a routine is key, so neither of you has expectations that can’t be
‘We’ve agreed to be more truthful if we need some alone time and not be offended’
met. But for those couples where one already works from home, the adjustment may be even trickier – as it’s easy to feel your peaceful space has been thoroughly invaded.
“Usually, I work from home alone,” says Sara Keel (pictured, top right) CEO and founder of Babycup Ltd (babycup. co.uk). “But the peaceful haven I normally claim as my calm, productive office space is now awash with science projects, maths questions and random acts of printing.”
As well as the children, her husband
Julian, a chiropractor, is now at home too. “Julian has his laptop and phone at the kitchen table where he’s set up emergency phone support to help out his patients via telephone,” Sara explains. “Add to the mix three children and a dog, and life as we all know it is wholly different to just a few weeks ago.”
Sara’s children are 13, 11 and nine. “They’re all working to their regular school timetable, and so far are pretty self-sufficient,” she says, but, “I’m pretty sure missing socialising will be a huge problem for them all. Once any novelty has worn off, it will be apparent that we all need other humans.”
Julian finds that the hardest bit of home-working is “eating too much, constant grazing and drinking too much coffee”. I, too, find that constant ruminant-style snacking is a danger. If I don’t buy biscuits, Andy does, and it’s rare that I’m able to pass the Tunnock’s Teacakes box in the kitchen without removing and eating one.
The worrying has ramped up in light of the coronavirus pandemic too: as an anxious person who’s self-isolating, I admit I’ve been interrupting Andy to fret about my parents. But Segal says that when working and living together, boundaries are important.
“It’s important not to make your partner your default recipient for your anxieties over this very difficult time,” warns Segal. “If you feel isolated, reach out to friends and family to alleviate some of the pressure, and allow you to hold on to a sense of community.”
She also suggests that learning more about your partner’s working pressures may actually be very useful, both now and when life returns to some semblance of normal.
“If possible, take the opportunity to learn more about what your partner is working on, what’s driving them, what’s interesting to them, and perhaps even where you can support them,” she says.
Minoti Parikh, from Leeds, runs TPL Experiences, designing bespoke team-building programs. Her husband Sameer is a manager for a telecoms company.
“It’s been a bit of a shock to the system, since Sameer started working from home,” she says. “Initially, I felt someone had invaded my space. We generally don’t argue much but the first week was very different!”
Working so closely has provided new insight, though, she adds. “I know a lot more about his work and to be fair, I now understand why he can’t speak to me through the day when he’s at work. He doesn’t have time to breathe,” she says. “He too has become more open to the idea of me wanting to just finish off work, even if it is beyond 6pm, because I’m in the flow of things.”
I entirely agree that understanding how your partner’s work actually works is all-important. I know Andy’s job involves lengthy phone calls, and he knows mine requires long periods of silence. Learning to respect those needs is the key to harmoniously working together.
Having clearly defined space in the house for you each to work, even if it’s just the kitchen table and the sofa, is a huge help, too. Never interfere with each other’s work, no matter how well-meaning. I still remember the time Andy stood behind me, reading my screen over my shoulder, and murmured: “You’ve made a spelling mistake there.” He never did it again.
So if the phone rings and it’s for your partner, don’t try to engage your partner’s busy colleagues in chit-chat, no matter how novel it is to talk to a new person at the moment. In fact, treat your partner exactly as you would a likeable colleague. During work hours, that’s what they are – and if you wouldn’t say it to your desk-mate, don’t say it to your life companion.
After work, of course, all bets are off – but don’t forget you still have to share an office tomorrow.
‘The haven I claim as my calm, productive office space is awash with random acts of printing’
‘If possible, take the chance to learn more about what your partner is working on, what’s driving them’