The recent wild winter weather—my area’s first real blizzard since 1999, reawakening memories of the last really big one back in 1966—is making me realize how great it is to be able to work at home. It also has reminded me of some of the perils of working from home.
Back in 1988 or ’89, I was living in DC in the only apartment of a three-story rowhouse in the Adams Morgan neighborhood—the first floor and basement were an antique shop, the second floor was a newspaper office, and I had the whole third floor. There was a buzzer and intercom for the street door, but no entry switch, so you had to go down to the street door to let visitors in or accept packages. My apartment door had a doorknob lock and a deadbolt.
One day, we had a substantial blizzard—not just a DC blizzard, which could involve a whopping inch of snow in the forecast, but a real one, with snow falling all day, several inches of accumulation and no end in sight. Because of the weather, I was happily working away in an ankle-length flannel nightgown and fuzzy slippers. I had a deadline to meet and was expecting a delivery of material for that project. When the buzzer rang, I dashed downstairs to get my package before the courier could leave—and left my keys in the apartment. Which I realized just as the apartment door closed behind me. With the doorknob locked. There I was in my flannel nightie and fuzzy slippers, unable to get back into the apartment. On deadline. In a blizzard.
The shop was closed, but the newspaper office was open, and—embarrassing though my “outfit” was—the kids let me use their phone. The building owner’s home phone went to voice mail; same for her business partner. Even if I could have reached either of them, though, they probably couldn’t (or wouldn’t) have gotten there. I had friends in the neighborhood, but none with keys to my apartment, even if they had been home.
All I could think of was to call the police and ask for an officer to come over and pop the lock for me. They were quite sympathetic but said they couldn’t help. They did have a useful suggestion, though: Call the fire department and say either I had left something cooking on the stove or had someone in the apartment who was disabled (but don’t say the police said to say so!).
I called the fire department and said I was locked out in my nightgown and slippers, and might have left the stove on. I was told to stay put and wait for help to arrive, which I figured meant someone would show up on the doorstep with a jimmy or file to tackle the doorknob lock.
What I did not expect: A full-size hook-and-ladder fire truck came trundling down the street and pulled up in front of the building! The ladder started rising to the third floor. A firefighter in full gear zipped up the ladder, popped open my living-room window (to the cheers of quite a few onlookers who appeared from nowhere and didn’t seem to mind the snow) and clambered in. A few seconds later, he came out of the apartment door and said I could come on up and get back into my apartment, as long as I could show him some ID to prove I really lived there. I was saved!
Everyone in the neighborhood enjoyed a good laugh on my behalf for days afterward, but that was a small price to pay for getting back into my place and meeting my deadline.
All of this is to say that it’s probably a very good idea for any freelancer who works at home to, along with making the usual emergency management moves (surge protector for your computer and related equipment, back-up email address in case your usual server goes down, generator in case of power outage, well-stocked pantry, laptop with charged-up battery in case desktop computer breaks down, etc.):
- live in a building with an onsite manager or superintendent,
- ask a neighbor to keep a back-up key to your place (preferably someone who also works at home, or whose office is nearby),
- wear real clothes while working, or at least something covering, um, private parts, and
- avoid deadline crunches that might fog your concentration on things like whether the door will lock behind you …
Ruth E. “I can write about anything!” Thaler-Carter (www.writerruth.com) is a long-time, successful freelance writer, editor, proofreader and more. She has spoken at local and national STC conferences; is the author of Get Paid to Write! Getting Started as a Freelance Writer and Freelancing 101: Launching Your Editorial Business; and hosts an annual conference for freelancers through her Communication Central business (www.communication-central.com).
Priceless description of the perils of freelancing … lots scarier than not getting paid. Thanks for a big smile this morning, Ruth. ;-
I chuckled at your story, Ruth, but all of us have had similar disasters! Yours just may have been more dramatic than most.
I hadn’t thought about the alternate e-mail–good idea.
I think the underlying message is that freelancers have to be responsible for so much (really, everything), and it’s a great idea to have a disaster plan and keep updating it (or at least update your work wardrobe in case you get locked out)!
Oh, I’m sure I’m not the only one ever to lock herself out, even not the only one to do so in her PJs. The fire engine might be close to unique, though! And a lot of that incident had to do with where I lived at the time. There are advantages to living “over the shop” – but drawbacks as well. That experience is one reason I’ll never be the only resident in a building again, among other things!