Zoom has become part of all our lives over the past few months. Here’s a light-hearted look at some of the quirks of the video meeting platform, as well as some of the things it’s taught us about ourselves and our colleagues…
A – Audio only. The choice of beginners and introverts. That is until you’re the only one with a black screen so you crumble to the social pressure and go full video.
B – Bad connection. But you pretend to hear everything the other person says anyway.
C – Caught unawares. Like when you’re a few minutes early and you’re checking yourself out on screen and realise an equally early colleague has been watching you all along.
D – Domestic life. Zoom has afforded us insight into our colleagues’ home life like never before. Also see R, P and S.
E – Earpods, wireless. The key to looking casually cool on Zoom.
F – Forty-minute limit. In the beginning everyone was secretly pleased by this (“More time to try my latest sourdough recipe!”) but then we got upgraded…
G – Giant head. You don’t have to sit so close to the screen—everyone can see you just fine.
H – Hungry. How you feel after back-to-back Zoom calls. That’s because lockdown has conditioned your metabolic system to expect a snack every 30 minutes minimum.
I – I really need to pee. Yeah, so do I. Anyone know the Zoom etiquette for excusing yourself?
J – Jokes. With delay, jumpy screens and everyone talking over each other, attempts at wit and irony usually fail miserably.
Kyphosis – Clinical term for ‘hunchback’. Apparently being bent over your laptop during very long Zoom calls can lead to abnormal rounding of the upper-back…
L – Last minute panic. It’s 10:59 and you can’t find the email—sent two weeks ago—containing the link to the 11am meeting. Frantic scrolling.
M – Mute. “You’re on mute! You’re on mute! She’s on mute.”
N – Novelty. Wearing off fast. Can we please go back to boardrooms and whiteboards?
O – Overshare despair. Realising, post-Zoom call, that you might have revealed a little too much about your lockdown life. “I open a bottle of wine at eleven and just eat cake all day, ha-ha! What about you?”
P – Pets. Dogs barking. Cats walking across the keyboard. A rare insight into our colleagues’ home menagerie.
Q – Quinoa porridge and how to make it (plus other newfound recipes/eating habits discussed during the ‘non-meeting’ part of Zoom calls).
R – Random person in background. That quick flash of a colleague’s boyfriend/husband walking by in nothing more than his underwear will haunt you forever.
S – Spying. As in checking out the background contents of your colleagues’ lounges/kitchens instead of concentrating on the conversation.
T – Tanned. Did you notice how everyone got progressively browner with each weekly call?
U – Underdressed. Everyone else is in work wear. You’re in pyjamas.
V – Voice emanating from a black screen. See A.
W – Weather. The favoured topic for combating those awkward remote silences.
X – Xerosis. Abnormal dryness of the eyes. A common symptom of back-to-back Zoom calls.
Y – Yuan, Eric. Founder of Zoom. Was extremely rich, now even richer.
Z – Zoom, obvs. Will we never be set free?
