This week, dozens of my colleagues from across the US (and Europe) are visiting our Boston office.  I’ll be in the office several days in a row – in fact, more days consecutively since the pandemic started over two years ago.  There have been a few gatherings in person since March of 2020, but none this large or for this many days.

I’m excited – it reminds me of how I used to feel before attending a big kickoff or conference.  But, like the night before those types of events, I’m also bracing myself for the week – the social aspects of it. That is, not ‘socializing,’ but how exhausting what used to be a normal week of in-person interactions can be.

What makes this hard?  We’ve become accustomed to work interactions being scheduled, planned, scoped, and chosen (or declined) intentionally through calendar management. 

• This week, spontaneous meetings and interactions will be the norm. “Water cooler conversations,” hallway bump-ins, and overhearing colleagues discussing things will all be how we communicate this week.  I miss those things.  Also I dread them.  But I want them.

We’ve become accustomed to taking a break after a long, tough conversation with a walk outside, a tussle with the dog, or a moment with a loved one.

• This week, the set of interaction will be more immersive.  Sure, there’s the option of walking around the office to stretch my legs, or ducking outside for a quick walk.  Sometimes I even sneak the dog into work.  But it’s not the same as being in my own home.

Look, if I had to make a binary choice between perpetually working remotely, or returning to pre-pandemic office culture and travel, I’d choose the latter.  But we’re not choosing between those things.  We’re moving into a phase of perpetual, shifting, changing, lumpy, hybrid work. Different patterns of travel and of interaction.  And that’s new.

I know I’ll come out of this week satisfied and exhausted. I’m excited to meet new colleagues and team members I’ve only known over Zoom. I’m excited to have meetings in person with several people in the same room. I’m excited to celebrate recent accomplishments, and talk about future vision, in person. And I’m also nervous about adjusting to all of it.

As I write this, “We Don’t Talk about Bruno” is playing in the next room, and now that I stop to listen, it’s also playing downstairs, on two separate warring devices with about a 3-bar offset. 

So there are ways in which nothing can be too much compared to my current “workplace.”