One of the (many) things I have never understood about the workplace is why co-workers break into one’s concentration for the ritual exchange of social pleasantries.
My desk used to be next to a main thoroughfare, although behind a partition. At least three times a day perfectly nice people would stop by to say, “How you going?”
Because I’m pretty good at working on one thing at a time, and I work with earbuds in, I’d be riveted to my Excel spreadsheet and I usually wouldn’t notice them. People would literally wave their hand between my face and the computer screen, wait for me to take my earbuds out, and then say, “Hey, working pretty hard there, huh?” or “Any exciting plans for the weekend?” or, commonly,”Wow, you have zero peripheral vision.”
The very best thing about being unemployed is being allowed to do one thing in a solid chunk and no one interrupting me. I have written 23,579 words for August so far. I can sit at my desk for a four hour block (with regular OOS exercises and stretching breaks, of course) and Get Shit Done. I’m hoping as my writing muscles get more exercise I will increase my rate of output.
I have died and gone to heaven.