10. You have been working in your scummy pajamas for more than two days, and your dog will no longer sniff your butt.
9. You’ve actually begun to look forward to telemarketing phone calls, and they’re hanging up on you.
8. The accumulated toe nail clippings surrounding your desk have amassed to form an anti-Facebook union.
7. You’ve been staring into your refrigerator for so long that you missed the deadline for the only paying account you have right now. And the interior light bulb in the fridge burned out.
6. With your only paying account now searching for its new national brand on the free logomaker.com site, you desperately resort to more futile forays inside your (darkened) refrigerator.
5. Upon further scrutiny, your dark refrigerator remains empty, but a quick bathroom scale check-in reveals added baggage. And it’s yours.
4. Thanks to your flying-solo freelance ethic, your senses are now so heightened that any high-pitched whining sound, no matter how distant, becomes the dominant drone of The Giant Gnat That Ate New York City.
3. No one calls. No one texts you. No one posts on your wall. No one retweets your tweets.
2. Your mother is posting recipes for quinoa casseroles and photos of her friends in restorative yoga postures on your Facebook wall, and you lack the energy to hover your cursor over the ‘block’ pop-up.
1. After four long days working from home alone with your indifferent dog, a noisy gnat and your empty refrigerator subbing for office camaraderie, you resort to Starbucks. Where you pay $4.87 for your first Frapp of the day (it’s 9:50 am, do the math and add up the calories)—and another lonely freelancer at the next table offers to watch your laptop during your 7-second pit stop. Except he’s not a freelance designer, he’s just a freelance thief.
While mourning the loss of all faith in any humanity, you might just consider coworking and collaborating in a community of your peers—where your laptop, your creativity and your soul are not stolen. And great coffee is free. ♣