Telecommuting: Blessing or Curse?

(My messy home office)

Today I chose to work from home because I wanted to get some household chores done.

Ain't the Internet awesome? It has made "telecommuting" possible, thus allowing me to work flexible hours, giving me more freedom and control over my schedule.

...or has it?

Come to think of it: the fact that I can now work from home, ironically, has chained me even more tightly to my job; for now even my bedroom -- the most intimate part of my house -- has been conveniently penetrated by the demands of the workplace, too! Whereas before, "home" was my retreat, my distinctly private space where I could just forget about work and recuperate after a hard day (among others), now "home" has become an extension of my corporate office. An "appendage" or "cog" to the Grand Machine (to paraphrase some Marxist philosopher dude).

Separation between home and work has become liminal. I, the human being, am now being smoothly integrated into the structures of the corporate world. See, my house's walls are no longer shields from outside pressures. Even within those walls, I am hostage to my bosses; I am expected to function as a "professional." I am to incorporate their needs even more deeply into my life.

If my personal home space has now been infiltrated by my professional work, what space am I left with to call my own? Where am I to retreat after a hard day's work? Where can I go where I can be a fuller human being, not just a market-oriented employee?

It seems that technology has been appropriated as a clever excuse for my bosses to intrude my private home space. More and more areas of my life, it seems, are being defined by my workplace identity.

I might have been reading too much Adorno.