Some days, I really can relate to the woman in the popular 1980s Wendy’s commercial who lifts up the top half of the bun,  leans in closely, adjusts her glasses, and wonders, 

​As a communications consultant, I write things people don’t want to or can’t. Some of the time, that means that I will connect with a client, jot down notes about what’s on their mind, ask some questions for clarity, and put a draft on paper. 
 
A lot of the time, however, I am creating content. Figuring out what needs to be said, and putting the words on paper. A client will say, “We need to get a message out.” The message is the bun, and it’s my job to make the patty. 

While this is an intuitive process, these three questions guide me:

1. What’s the point? – What needs to be communicated? Is there a new thing to share?
2. What’s the context? – How much background does the audience need? 
3. What’s the ask? – What action is required and is the deadline clear? 

If you tend to agonize over writing or simply don't know how to get started, remember these questions. You'll have your 'beef' in no time.

As a trained linguist, I listen for misunderstandings. They provide great insights into conversational dynamics, and of course, it’s a fun mental puzzle. I thought I’d share a couple of my most fun misunderstandings. (Full disclosure: both stories happened on vacation in Italy, years ago. Yes, like many I am daydreaming about the possibility of travel. These popped in my mind recently while reminiscing…Maybe someday soon?) 
 
What would you like to order?

It was a scorching hot August day on the Amalfi coast, and we were a group of sticky hot tourists looking to take a lunch break. We sat down at a beautiful restaurant, one of those you see in the pictures with massive lemons hanging in a trellis up above. Once everyone had studied the menu and decided what they wanted, the server came. My Italian was better than the others’ and so I ordered for everyone, based on what I’d remembered everyone wanted, in the order that I remembered it. The food started to arrive at the table, in a seemingly random order. We were puzzled. Why was a second course coming out with a starter? Where’s my pasta? Why were the dishes coming out in rounds, rather than in order, or all at once? 
 
The server must be incompetent. That was the only possible explanation. Italians were serious about course order. This guy must be a goof ball, or maybe he was just having a bad day? Then suddenly came the aha. The pattern to the “random” order? The dishes were coming to the table in the exact order I had requested them. The laugh was on me! 

Want to go out and play?
​
A few years back, I took my niece and nephew, who were 6 and 8, respectively, to Italy to visit family. The kids spoke no Italian, but they made instant friends with some locals. One afternoon the neighborhood kids came by, wanting to play. My niece and nephew went out happily, and about five minutes later, stormed back in, angry and frustrated. 
 
“They are cheats!” they declared. 
 
“I don’t want to play with them anymore.” 
 
I went out to talk with the Italian kids to find out what had happened. They were just as puzzled. “What were you playing?” I asked? And as it turns out, the Italians were not playing freeze tag, as my niece and nephew had thought. And the Italian kids weren’t cheating at freeze tag. Instead, they were playing a similar game, but with different rules. My niece and nephew had assumed the worst—without the benefit of language, they had no idea what had gone wrong.

“When I had children, we didn’t have all this stuff. It’s become all too complicated.” My early days as a mother are a blurr, and yet I remember this moment vividly. My mom, who’d raised four children and at that point had already been a grandmother for decades, revealed to me that she had no idea about motherhood today. How do you correctly install a carseat? How do you manage screentime? How do you use a bottle warmer? The job had evolved. We’d made it more complicated. Some of the innovations were for child safety or health, and some for convenience. Others for marketing. Babies are big business, after all.

​Work for us hasn’t changed all that much. We’ve been working from home for years. We’d pushed through the initial honeymoon period or shock—both reactions are possible when initially transitioning to telework—and we’d settled into a good, solid work-from-home routine years ago. In the past year due to the COVID-19 pandemic, many others made an abrupt shift to working from home, without much planning or preparation. Compounded with the stresses of the pandemic, it’s been rough.

But it’s been rough for us veteran telecommuters, too. We explored why. We came up with a hypothesis. Maybe with the rush to connect and simulate the in-person interactions, we have made it all too complicated. 
 
Working from home was not nearly as exhausting before—you guessed it—Zoom. To be fair, it’s Zoom, Teams, whatever. Meeting on the phone (audio only) is way easier than videoconferencing. Here’s what I heard:
 
I've been telecommuting for 18 years. I used to walk all the time while on my calls. I cannot do that when required to take notes and also be on camera. 
 
I am fidgety, and I need to move around when I am working. I used to be able to do that.
 
On video calls, I feel like I am chained to my desk. When on conference calls, I can fold laundry or walk around and Swiff the floors. In a way it helps me concentrate. 

We have all done some personal reflection on this topic, and it’s been analyzed extensively. We’ve read about Zoom fatigue, the particular challenges of uncertainty, etc. Movement is indeed one of the issues. But there are others, including needing to manage your face. Yes, Zoom (and our politeness expectations) forces you to fake a smile. Vignesh Ramachandran's article from Stanford explains it well. There’s lots of brain science to explain our exhaustion. 

So what do we do with this knowledge? And why do I feel the need to pile onto the heap of articles and blogs, when the topic has been discussed already? Well, it’s time to head back into the office. It’s time to start new habits. Let’s remember what my mom said and not make this too complicated.