Working at home and living in solitude has its benefits and challenges. There are about 79 things to do, write, consider, opine upon, create, clean, read, and plan on my to-do list on any given day. The hours blow by like tumbleweeds on the eastern plains of Wyoming. As I pen these notions, it’s 1:15am and without a clock, I would estimate the time nearer 7pm.

In recent weeks, I find myself skipping the mascara for a jump-start on sniping email messages, and delaying lunch until dinner time, which works out to be only a few hours. Management consultants might characterize this behavior as taking efficiency measures, a small-changes-fuel-big-results transformation strategy. But, how did 1am tick into the present? I only ate once today. This efficiency thing may be getting out of the control zone. Soon, another sunrise will inch up over the Colorado plains.

Upon examination of the wrinkle prone regions on my face, there is little evidence that this work-at-home lifestyle, including the extended hours whizzing by my more-square-than-oval office, has had any negative bearing on my adrenal system. But to be certain, the effects are wearing a groove in the foundation of my thoughts, and therefore my behavior. One result of this behavior pattern is quite positive: I rarely disagree with myself, leading to very few arguments lasting longer than about 60 minutes. We share many of the same ideas.

Solitude can be the mother of clarity or the father of confusion. The question remains, though: Which is it, and how does one know?

I’ll put some thought to this quizzical notion on my commute from the kitchen to the office first thing in the morning.

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