Why is everyone else able to sit so erect on Zoom encounters? I can hardly concentrate on, say, someone’s critique of this week’s Sherlock Holmes story, because I’m so busy concentrating on myself. Under the best of circumstances, my head tilts, always to the left.
And isn’t it natural for my nose to itch when I’m looking at it? More so during Covid-19, because everyone will judge me for touching my face when I scratch.
Similarly, now that I am in the meeting and know how inconvenient it is, I need a drink of water. And then I’ll have to pee.
I can’t help noticing how far away I am, thus looking small. Am I being too obvious as I slowly drag the table that holds my computer closer? Now am I too big?
Sometimes, if I wear my glasses and angle the light just so, I can look away because the reflection on my specs masks my eyes. That allows me to hold my phone underneath my glass table and sneak glances at incoming texts.
I should have started out with no video, which has the advantage that I can look at my phone full on without seeming rude. Switching off my camera in the middle of a meeting feels wrong.
Then there’s my hair. Today I put a comb on top to hold back the overgrown front part. I think I’d look better in my zoom square without the comb. What will people think if I’m seen rearranging my coif?
I draw the trying-to-make-a-good-impression line on my background. I want to face my garden, which means everyone else has to see the unimpressive doors to my kitchen behind me.
Wait. I just thought of this: is it possible no one is noticing me but me?