Living half a block away from work certainly has its benefits: a 2 minute commute, no transportation costs, being able to run home for an ice cream snack, to grab lunch money, to grab a computer cable right before my laptop dies during a Key Informant Interview. Not my smoothest or most professional moment – leaving people reading the consent form while I ran up and down six flights of stairs – but I have never been so grateful to live at The Nunnery.
Recently, my landlord knocked on my door at 6:00 am – on the one day I was sleeping in – to say (with some understandable annoyance) that someone from work was waiting for me downstairs. I got groggily dressed and walked outside. The Director of Services didn’t have keys for her office, and could I hand over the ones I had? In some ways, I was grateful. I was in the midst of a strange dream.
I’ve read that short commutes make for more happiness. The short commute also means I am always within earshot of the neighborhood, and can’t escape the outdoor rock concert at the school across the street, or the marching band practicing in the middle of the street.
Any guesses as to what they were celebrating?