One of the benefits of my job is that I get to work in the comfort of my home. If I want to take a break I can just kick back and relax on the sofa, I work in my sweats more often than I probably should and I don’t have to deal with sitting in traffic trying to get to an office. I typically sit at my kitchen table (which causes me to eat way more than I should) and work while watching the neighbors mow their lawns and walk their dogs. It’s a pretty nice gig, I must admit.

That is until something like today happens…I look out my window and see a neighbor’s dog doing his business in my yard and the guy DOESN’T pick it up! And let me tell you friends, it was no small dog – if you get what I’m saying. What am I supposed to do, run out there and say something? Offer up a baggie? I don’t have a dog for the very reason I don’t want to deal with this situation, let alone a strangers dogs. Is there dog poo etiquette? Maybe I should post it in my yard…yeah, that won’t make me look crazy.

I read a while ago that some cities where dog poo-ing and lazy owners live, people have come to the point where they put peanut butter on the poo so the dogs then come back and eat it. But, I don’t think I can torture the dog for the owner’s stupidity and I don’t think I want to come that close to the poo. Yuck, I would probably gag. Being that I’m not very confrontational, I haven’t yet gone running out to yell at the people I see doing this, or I mean letting their dog do it. What really is the difference though - they might as well be the ones poo-ing. Actually, that’s a pretty bad image - scratch that thought. Instead, I think one of these days I’ll follow them to see where they live and the next time we have a summer bash, my husband and all his friends can go relieve themselves on their lawn. They really can’t get mad, can they?!

So - if you have a dog and you walk it to do its business – don’t forget people do work from home and can see you!

Speaking of dogs, there are a lot of great dog jokes on the site, click here to check them out!

This morning, I arose from my Easter Dinner-fueled hibernation with merely two minutes to spare before I was expected at work. But I did not panic. I simply brushed my teeth and opened my laptop. I work from home—sometimes no more than six feet from my bed. Hell, sometimes in my bed!

Maybe working from home is The American Dream 2.0, but I have to be honest: after a little more than a month-and-a-half, I’ve had enough of being a stay-at-home employee. For the sake of full disclosure, I should describe my circumstances, which are unique for a 24-year-old with a good job; since I recently broke-up with a girlfriend with whom I was living in a posh apartment, I have moved back in with my parents (to avoid several months of pricey double rent payments). So while I am working from home, I am also working FROM MY PARENTS’ HOME. And therein lies the rub.

My mom is funny… and quirky. VERY quirky. Not to mention given to fits of obscenity and utter obnoxiousness. AND she’s a nurse on a rotating shift, so many days she’s at home while I’m working here, or “trying to work here,” I should say.

When my mom is cleaning the kitchen—which is my preferred workspace due to openness, natural lighting, and WIFI signal strength—she listens to her music at concert volume. No joke: concert volume. We’re talking The Bee Gee’s, Earth, Wind & Fire, Rod Stewart, and A LOT of generic salsa music. Our kitchen sounds like a fusion of American Bandstand, a sultry lounge, and the Disney version of a Mexican Barrio. And I can handle all that, even if it’s audible in every other room of the house. But when she’s watching my 10-month-old niece, that’s when she breaks out “Drew’s Famous Sleep-over Party Mix” and “The Chipmunks’ Dance Party Mix.” Now we’re talking screechy covers of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” and high-pitched, chipmunk-esque renditions of “I’m Too Sexy” (the latter being disturbing on various levels). I would challenge anyone, save for someone with a hearing disability, to work productively in that environment. It’s like trying to center your Chi at a Hannah Montana concert.

For some reason, the WIFI signal in my house is disabled when the microwave is active. If anyone has insight as to why this is the case, please let me know; with my limited understanding of the technologies at work, I can’t wrap my head around this apparent opposition of “wavy things.” Of course, my productivity is directly tied to the Web; I use an online program to manage my daily tasks and communicate almost exclusively vie email with the other members of my company. And it just so happens that my mom uses the microwave often because she is, in fact, a twenty-first century mom. I think you go see where I’m going with this. “You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Vice President of Operations, we’re having BLT’s for dinner tonight and Mom likes making the bacon in the microwave. Can we talk through how my Website works another time?”

Of course I’m asked to do random other tasks, merely by virtue of my constant presence. Run to the store. Hold the baby. Get the mail. I wish I were joking, but when my mom’s home, I’m a full-time gopher and a part-time employee. Did I mention I’m 24 with a good job?

And then, even when my mom’s at work, we have the other myriad temptations of being at home. As a 24-year-old guy. Recently singled. Alone. With no one else around. On the Internet full-time. With no access restrictions like those in place at large corporations. And so many possibilities…