How the Work from Home Culture Turns Us Into
The Shining’s Jack Torrance
and How The Works Can Save You from Cabin Fever
When The Shining’s Jack Torrance moved into the Overlook Hotel for some peace and quiet to write his novel, he expected inspiration, productivity, and quality family time. What he got was cabin fever, ghost hallucinations, and a one-way ticket to axe-wielding madness.
Sound familiar?
Welcome to Work from Home culture—the modern-day equivalent of snowed-in horror. Only now, instead of haunted hotels, we’re trapped in one-bedroom apartments, wearing the same hoodie since last fiscal quarter, and slowly unraveling during Zoom calls that should have been an email.
Isolation Nation: Home Office or Mental Asylum?
Like Jack, remote workers begin with high hopes. No commute, no dress code, and all the coffee your heart (and gastrointestinal system) can handle. But a few months in, and the dream morphs into a psychological maze. Jack had hedge animals and haunted hallways. You’ve got 47 tabs open in Chrome, a Slack thread that won’t die, and a hallway rug permanently worn down from pacing during “quick syncs.”
Your coworkers are now houseplants and a dog who barks at everything. Your fridge judges you silently with a judgmental hum. And you’ve started referring to your Roomba as your “assistant to the regional manager.” Jack had Lloyd the ghost bartender. You’ve got Gerald the vacuum who “gets you.”
The “Typewriter Effect,” But with Gmail
Remember when Jack typed “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” until it sounded like a cry for help? Remote workers echo this cry every time they type “Just circling back…” or “Let me know your thoughts” into a black hole of unread emails. Jack’s typewriter clacked with madness. Your laptop glows with anxiety and a little too much Microsoft Teams.
Eventually, you realize your last meaningful conversation was with your microwave, and even it seems disappointed in you for leaving that pizza sauce splatter stuck to the side for months.
Cabin Fever can even spread to your offspring.
That’s right. Children can come down with an awful case of Cabin Fever within minutes of waking up. What do you do when then entire family is spiraling into this strange captive insanity? The only known cure in the summer months is spending 5 hours at the community pool.
Cabin Fever, Brought to You by High-Speed Internet
Without social interaction, the mind wanders. Jack went feral in a ski lodge. You held a team meeting for your stuffed animals, promoted Teddy to senior VP, and fired your coffee machine for insubordination (I always end up with coffee grounds in my cup 🙁). You’ve read the employee handbook just to feel something.
This isn’t remote work. It’s a psychological thriller with bad lighting.
Sanity Is a Shared Workspace Away
Here’s where The Works in Gilbert, AZ enters the frame like a snowplow rescuing you from your frozen Overlook nightmare. Think of it as the anti-isolation antidote: a coworking space that gives you actual humans to talk to, reliable Wi-Fi that doesn’t drop during your boss’s big question, and seating options that aren’t your bed, couch, or suspiciously warm floor spot.
At The Works, you get structure without the soul-sucking sterility of a cubicle farm. You can network without needing to add anyone on LinkedIn, drink coffee, and—perhaps most importantly—wear real pants again. It’s like therapy, but with fewer co-pays.
Conclusion: Don’t Go Full Jack. Just Don’t.
WFH culture and The Shining share a haunting message: isolation is a slippery slope. One minute, you’re updating spreadsheets in bunny slippers. The next, you’re muttering “Redrum” to a banana.
Don’t wait until your living room starts whispering your performance review. Escape the cabin fever. Reclaim your sanity (even if just for a single day). And for the love of all that is caffeinated, go to The Works. Because no one should have to go full Jack just to finish a PowerPoint deck.
PS: The Works has a No-Axe Policy. It’s clearly within in our FAQs. So don’t even ask 😀.
