Not working from home

After 5 (10+?) years of working from home offices and studios all over the world, it's time for a change of scene.

The impending arrival of baby #2 means I’m out of my comfy home studio.

We need a dedicated bedroom for baby #1. Farewell to the three-stride commute. Hello to a 25-minute cannonball run of roadworks and small, single-lane villages with front doors that open right onto my bonnet.

But really, I'm looking forward to it.

I turn down a couple of options closer to home to throw my hat into this ring:

Hethel, Norfolk is the home of Lotus cars.

I'm looking forward to cracking into some really meaty projects for stage and screen surrounded by a bunch of people who do nothing of the sort. The Lotus factory and R&D campus is right behind this building, and I'm told that when the wind blows the right way, I'll be able to hear the roar of their cars being put through their paces on a test track. They're going electric like everyone else so goodness only knows what that will sound like. Lotus is Britain's Ferrari. It left an indelible mark on Formula One at a time when the cars were 200 mile-an-hour cigarette billboards.

Has anyone smoked a John Player special? If so, any good? I don't think they were sold in NZ.

I've got a lot of time for the founder of Lotus.

The late, great designer and engineer Colin Chapman.

He throws his hat in the air every time his cars win.

I tend to gather a lot of my writing tips from places other than writing. This is Colin's opinion of what it takes to build faster cars.

"Simplify, then add lightness.”

I like it.

So, in that spirit, I've left a shelf of reference books at home and moved the lightest version of my writing studio with me. It took a few minutes to get ready. The sit-stand desk is heavy and the chair is pretty expensive/delicate so I hired a man with a van and I was out of my home and installed in Hethel in about an hour.

Then it's time for my induction.

It’s a real eye opener. I feel like I've spent the past 5 (10?) years Rip Van Winkling through a revolution in office culture. I expect to learn the internet password and the location of the fire exits, but Head of This Stuff R- reads sombrely from a stack of paper that runs to several sheets.

I nod attentively as he tells me where the defibrillator is - I don't expect to personally need it, but there are 280 people in this building and maybe I'll be on the spot when one of them has an incident.

Then I really have to suppress my 😳 when R- tells me that he’s a trained mental health first aid worker and if I feel low I can come to him. He’s not a qualified psychologist, he’s careful to add, but whatever a defibrillator does for one's heart, I guess he can do for my qualitative emotions until the mental equivalent of an ambulance turns up.

Formalities done, we start gossiping about the other people in the office

I'm relieved to find that even in a modern office culture, some things don't change.

R- tells me about S- over in the corner who does something designy for clients including the Royal Family and therefore needs his own dedicated internet. S- also owns a friendly spaniel who comes into the office and drinks from the (pretty gross) bowl on the floor (identified trip hazard). And most importantly - S- owns at least one Lotus sports car. I can tell I'm going to get on with S-!

C- sits behind me and has something to do with marine rust prevention which means super yachts and/or oil rigs. I love the simultaneous vagueness and specificity of R-'s information. The other two desks are rented by people R- has never seen (I guess they didn't benefit from an induction!). One either is Nigerian, or has spent a great deal of time there and works on Nigerian time (UK nights). His desk has a landline telephone and a small whiteboard with doodles on it. The other fellow is his father or father-in-law, and has a company name that's just a bunch of random letters, printed on a tasteful cream letterhead. He also has a nifty label printer.

R- tells me that the offices and workshops around me are home to numerous businesses vaguely linked by engineering. The innovation centre isn't owned by Lotus, but a lot of ex-Lotus engineers work here. In the corridor, en route to inspect the shared kitchenette, I see a poster for an electric bike company that's based there, and peer through a window to find someone using a microscope. R- tells me that my nearest bathroom has a habit of backing up, and recommends the ones a hundred meters further down the way.

Following my induction it turns out that my tag doesn't work and I can't get on the internet.

While R- resolves that, I tidy my space tidy, and S- arrives! The one who does something designy for clients including the Royal Family and therefore needs his own dedicated internet. Who owns a friendly spaniel who comes into the office and drinks from the (pretty gross) bowl on the floor (identified trip hazard). And most importantly - S-, who owns at least one Lotus sports car.

I introduce myself to my new best friend.

S- is sans dog today because he heard I was coming in and doesn't know if I'm a dog person. I assure him I am, and hint that I've heard he's a Lotus person. He tells me he's done with Lotus and is currently suing them after the Xth car he bought off them had to spend an unreasonable amount of time getting repaired. He doesn't want to hear the name of that crappy car company ever again.

I'm mulling how to salvage my first workplace relationship when R- returns with my properly programmed key tag and a workaround for the internet.

I'm set up and looking forward to going into work properly on Monday.