Sadie Morgan is founder of dRMM. Here she shares the ups and downs of open-plan living and Zoom meetings during lockdown.
I’ve always walked to meetings if I can. It’s amazing where you can get to in London in 30 minutes. Now, of course, there is none of that, which makes for a day without breaks if you’re not careful.
Instead of my commute, I now walk from London Bridge to Westminster. At 6.30am there are few people about, but those who are, like me, are regulars.
I’ve begun to make friends. Not that I speak to the man who runs next to his cycling toddler or the tiny woman with her enormous white fluffy dog who pass me every day, but we share a smile and an instant bond of understanding. As I walk, I listen to the Today programme. I try to ration myself to two lots of news a day; my need to know balanced with the relentlessness of the situation.
I reflect on my day ahead. I seem busier than ever and am surprised at how draining it can be talking to a screen all day. I’ve never attended so many meetings where everyone is present and on time. And I love looking into the houses of those colleagues I have worked with for years. Argh, that wallpaper!
I set myself up for the beginning of a long day ahead. I have a call with Homes England first thing. We now have a weekly update from chief executive Nick Walkley. It’s a full agenda, and today he sets out the latest on the agency’s market engagement programme. The findings underline the huge challenge the industry faces and have proven to be invaluable in discussions with government.
In a short chat with U+I, it is a relief to have an upbeat conversation focused on investment opportunities, particularly with the public sector. As usual with U+I, they are looking to do things differently, and ultimately better than before.
Next is a catch-up with the team at dRMM. With staff working from home, productivity has been higher than ever. I’ve spoken to a couple of my team this week – we’ve divided all 50 into small groups who we call for a catch-up. I’m always buoyed by these conversations.
I step outside, enjoying the fresh air and silence, except of course for the birds. My terrace has become my outside office. Not just because I’m trying to top up my Zoom tan, but I’ve discovered that living in a trendy open-plan space makes it impossible for me and my partner to both make a call at the same time.
As we spend more and more time at home, this is the perfect moment to appreciate something many of us have known for some time but often struggle to communicate to the wider world – how fundamental our homes and communities are to our quality of life.
I’m a people person, so I find isolation very tough. I am lucky. I have a nice apartment with a small, sunny terrace, which has made me reflect on those not so fortunate. I imagine that for everyone in the UK, lockdown will have caused them to think about where they live. How much space is enough? How far is it practical to walk or drive to a shop? And how can we be better neighbours to those in our building or street?
The benefits of dual-aspect apartments are clear when you’re cooped up all day, looking for any sort of variety. I have never before valued every square centimetre of live, work and play space as much as I do now.
This thinking frames my next two hours. I am chairing a board meeting of the Quality of Life Foundation, and much of the discussion is based on the emerging outcomes of some nationwide research we have been doing over the past few months, most recently asking questions that specifically relate to the lockdown and the new Covid-19 world.
The research programme involves a combined series of reports that will together help us understand how people think about places and communities; learn what quality of life means to homeowners and tenants; and how they think it might be enhanced through improvements to the built environment.
It tells us that the things that really matter to people are a sense of community, the importance of local services and shops and concerns over the cost of living.
Through lockdown, the disparities in housing are becoming more apparent. Young people are much worse off, with less space, fewer local networks and greater economic uncertainty.
My working day ends with a read of my National Infrastructure Commission papers. We are beginning to plan for our next National Infrastructure Assessment, which is both a wonderful opportunity and extraordinary responsibility to help shape and build confidence in a future that is more uncertain than ever.
After some hurried housework, I can relax. It’s facemask night, and my daughter and I spend a luxurious hour sporting various masks, me wondering whether my skin might just look as radiant as hers when I wash the mask off. Even in lockdown, we’ve got to keep hope alive.
