Non-virtual Co-workers

Today I went into the office for work.  The last time I went was... you know, I'm not sure—I think it must have been something like last September.  In any case, I was meeting up with a co-worker, who I haven't seen in person since years and years; we were working for separate departments before being blended into our current office.  We were hired remotely.  Our supervisor retired on our first full day on the first of July.  We were meeting up to meet a potential new supervisor.  In person.

I haven't met most of my supervisors and co-workers except in Zoom or over Teams.  Like most of the US, I've been working from my bedroom, dressed in in jeans, slippers, and casual shirts.  The result is that most of the rest of the staff feel a little abstract and unreal.  

Today I shaved, put on slacks, some dress shoes, and a jacket.  I drove to work and found a parking spot on campus, which felt particularly empty because it's the end of the Spring Term.  I walked to the building I've only worked in for maybe a total of six hours over the last year of working remotely.  My co-worker was there ahead of me: I saw her standing near the elevator, slightly turned away from me.  I didn't recognize her at first because she was wearing a mask, I was seeing her from behind instead of in a Zoom frame, and she had legs.  

She must have recognized my voice as I was checking into the building because she turned and said, "John?  I thought that was you.  You're still tall."

I was having some adjustments to seeing her in real life—the only time I've seen her walking, she's appeared to be standing still, with slight swaying, as her apartment moved behind her.  Seeing her move while the building stood still was different.  Later, we met up with another supervisor: the timbre of his voice had made me imagine him shorter than he is in real life.   When he and my co-worker were speaking and trading some contact information for the candidate, there wasn't text in the chat area, and I could see the backs of their shoulders.  

For a moment, I thought I wouldn't remember my desktop's password, but luckily, my fingers did most of the remembering for my brain.  There were a lot of updates to install.  I think that's going to be the metaphor for returning to work.