The proposition of working at the beach is hard to pass up. Sitting at my desk looking longingly out the window, I reason that surely I could get as much work done at the beach with a cooling sea breeze, right? In fact it might be even less distracting because I wouldn’t be preoccupied with wanting to be outside. This is a great idea.
It’s easy to put my office in my bag. All I need is my laptop, notebooks and a bottle of water. I hop on a Dublin Bike and spin down from the city centre to Sandymount strand, convincing myself that this is going to be a super-productive day, chuckling at the thought of all the poor saps melting in their offices.
“That’s the great thing about my work,” I think. “I can do it anywhere.”
When I get there though, I realise I am completely underprepared. The tide has gone out, the sand is still damp and I have nothing to sit on. The sea breeze is initially lovely, but then it starts to get chilly.
I look enviously at other sunbathers, and try to edge myself closer to them to take advantage of their windbreakers. That doesn’t go down well.
Technology is a terrible idea at the beach, which is probably why I am the only person with a laptop.
I am freaking out about getting sand in it, and anyway, there’s no point having it open because you can’t see the screen in the glare. I give up on that and opt for pen and paper.
Technology is great, but there are certain things it can’t replace. I’m here to get stuff done, so I make a to-do list. Then I realise I can’t get anything on the list done sitting on my ass at the beach.
Will I do it again? Next time I’ll bring togs. The only productive thing I can imagine doing is catching up on some reading work. Watching people having fun on the beach when you’re trying to work is a lot more frustrating than being at a desk.
