Working From Home Isn’t Working

(I work from home, and my ‘home office’ is actually my bedroom. I live with my parents, due to the expensive housing. Like anyone, I want to not be disturbed. However, my family doesn’t appear to comprehend this, so whenever I am busy, I have put up a sign on the door requesting to not knock unless it’s an emergency.)

Mom: *knocks on the door*

Me: *to the teleconference* “One second.” *mutes the microphone* “Yes?”

Mom: “Did you run the dishwasher today?”

Me: “Is this an emergency?”

Mom: “Well I need to know before I start putting dirty dishes in there!”

Me: “Mom, this can wait. Kind of busy here.”

(Later, dad knocks, and I walk over to answer.)

Me: “Yes?”

Dad: “What’s the weather supposed to be like this week?”

Me: “Did you read the sign? I’m trying to file this electronic report.”

Dad: “What sign?”

(Right next to us, at exactly his eye level, is the sign, written in big bold letters. Yet later, my younger sister walks in and nearly gives me a heart attack.)

Me: “Yes?”

Sister: “Have you seen Anchorman?”

Me: “… I am typing up an order form here. Didn’t you see the sign?”

Sister: “I did. This can’t wait! It’s on TV tonight!”

(Note that we have DirectTV, which lets you record TV programs. When I start looking for something in town to rent and use as an office, my parents just cannot comprehend why I’d possibly want to do that when I can work from home…)

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