Spoiled Milk

The Ups and Down of Working Remotely in the Modern World.

I left the office early today because it was snowing.

It was only a little bit and I feel like a tool for doing it, but I drive a hatchback and I live near Boston — so driving is a near death experience when the weather is good, never-mind when there’s a half inch of snow and all the jerks in fancy cars are panicking.

But I left at lunch time, and decided that since I had a stove at my disposal, I’d have a box of macaroni and cheese for lunch. The blue box. The one that probably has nothing to do with actual cheese, but this is America goddamnit, and I wanted my Kraft Mac & Cheese.

I was only trying to do my patriotic duty.

There was only one more thing standing in my way. Milk.

You can’t make boxed mac and cheese without milk. Oh, I’ve tried. Lord in Heaven, have I tried. Using more butter produces Mac & Grease and using water is just… wrong. So, it was with much trepidation I pulled the carton of milk from the fridge.

See, I don’t drink the stuff. It tastes like death. Milk often goes bad before it gets used in my house, so on any given day there’s a good chance of the milk having been replaced with Chunky Death.

The fact that I — despite almost 27 years on this Earth — am unable to tell whether or not milk has spoiled by smell or god forbid, taste, complicates matters. Because to me, milk always smells and tastes like death.


And I was alone at lunch today. So completely and utterly alone.

I turned to twitter.

Within minutes, my colleagues sprang into action.

At the same time, I turned to my boyfriend via text message. Normally, he assumes his manly duty and smells the milk to check for rottenness, but I was alone and he was on the road. He echoed the advice of twitter — if it doesn’t smell, it’s okay.

I used the milk.
If I wasn’t part of a company that allowed for remote work, I’d have been sitting in an office today. Someone else likely would have made my lunch. If not for remote work, I may have spent the next 27 years dependent on men to determine whether or not a carton of milk was safe for human consumption.

This is the promise of remote work. This is the future.

Show your support

Clapping shows how much you appreciated Nicole Glynn’s story.