Separation of Work and Life

I relished weekends when I was in high school. Most nights, after a long day at school I’d find myself sitting at my desk for three hours doing homework. A half hour per subject isn’t so bad, but with six subjects it added up. At least I could space out my work over the weekend, although I never did. My mom always advised otherwise, but I’d still find myself panicked on Sunday night racing to finish what sat for three days. In college I escaped homework somewhat, spending hours after class in a studio or a computer lab working on projects that didn’t feel so much like work because they were subjects I’d chosen and was genuinely interested in. When I graduated and started working, sitting in the same spot for eight hours took getting used to. Having nothing to do when I got home was also a foreign experience.

I adjusted quickly to the hours moreso than the free time. As an intern who was hired upon graduation, I wasn’t given an excess of responsibility. I’d stick around a few minutes at the end of the day even if my work was done, mostly for appearances. I didn’t want to be the first one to leave. I remember the first coworker who told me to go home at five. I wondered if he was telling me from experience not to fall into a trap, or concerned that I’d make other people look bad. Over the years, I’ve realized it was a little bit of both.

Boredom was certainly a factor in those early years. I didn’t know what to do with myself after work. I lived five minutes away. I’d do jigsaw puzzles or bicker with my parents. I’d take naps. I seriously needed internet access back in the ‘90s. I seriously needed a computer. By the time I moved on to a larger company after four years, I had both. A longer commute and real responsibilities meant that excess free time was no longer an issue. At some point, my concern over deadlines blended with the occasionally bout of boredom, and I’d find myself checking work e-mail from home not just at night, but on days off. Work was always on my mind. “They don’t pay you enough for that!” friends would tell me, but it was in my nature. I owned my work. I hated to be late, and never was. It meant extra hours, but peace of mind. I couldn’t go home if something wasn’t finished. I seldom did.

I learned the hard way that, while such dedication is admirable and honorable, there are no guarantees. Mergers happen. Layoffs happen. I owned my responsibilities, made them my life, and one day they were simply gone. I acted quickly in crisis, and was lucky to find a new job immediately. Over the last few months I’ve made the transition with the help of a lot of great new coworkers. Pronouns challenge me though, and I find I still use “we” when describing my former company. I also decided that as great as my new job was, as any job might be, it was important not to make the same mistakes. I’d be just as dedicated, productive, and efficient while in the office, but once I drove away the concerns of work would wait until I returned.

The plan was fine while my responsibilities were minimal. My boss did an excellent job pacing out my assignments in such a way that I’d have time to learn, gradually adding more as I proved what I could handle. He told me most people take about six months to get past the learning curve, and I definitely wouldn’t be expected to know everything right away. At the three month mark, I have what I’d call a normal workload, and nowhere near as insane as what I amassed after seven years at my last job. Every new job starts out light, with gradual increases. The more you do, the more you’re assigned. Over time, if not properly monitored, this can lead to an imbalance. People who do nothing stay employed and leave on time. People who do everything also stay employed, pick up the slack of others, and work late. Other than personal pride and ethics, where was the reward?

One might expect that now that I’ve had time to process some things, even feel anger about certain things, that my outlook would become more cynical. A recent reminder of the best part of my old job did make me angry about what was taken from me. I worked with fantastic talents on fantastic creations. I worked with kindred spirits. I miss it, but I do know that life breaks into chapters, and every chapter must end before a new one begins. Three months into my new chapter, though I might have a look back in sadness and anger, I’m still looking ahead. In my future, I worry about making the same mistakes. I’m not checking work e-mail from home yet, but work is on my mind when I’m not there.

The last few weeks have not been typical. I was paired with a slow writer on a project, who assured me that while he’s usually late, he’s been there nearly ten years and I shouldn’t worry about getting in trouble. I don’t care about getting in trouble; he missed the point. I worry about getting stuff done on time, and it’s against my nature to do otherwise. I was never one of those kids who’d smooth talk a professor and get more time to finish a paper. Assignments were due when the teacher said, with no flexibility in my mind. Not everyone thinks that way. But while my teammate was taking his time, I wasn’t completely idle. When asked to design an ad for a magazine I agreed. When asked to design the invitation for the company’s holiday party I agreed. New people always embrace extra assignments to show dedication to a new job and earn points with management. That’s not exactly my rationale though. In my mind, when a boss asks me to do something, it never occurs to me that “no” is an option.

Eventually, my writer did what he needed to do and I could resume working on that project. Thankfully there’s a rotation system, so with each new project I’m dealing with a different writer. While I’m working with a much quicker person on my next assignment, there’s now a crash because I’m still catching up from working with the slow guy. And so, work has been on my mind a lot these past two weeks, even though I know I’ll get everything done and get past this rough patch. I’m glad to have a long weekend and not think about the pile in my inbox or the multiple meetings that await me on Monday. And yet, here I am in the middle of the long weekend thinking about it.

I’ve been pretty good, and for the most part time spent with friends, family, and movies distracted me. I tend to snap when stressed, and my parents caught some attitude from a few simple questions in the last week. I don’t like that aspect of myself. It’s good that I’m conscientious and concerned about getting things done during the day. It’s bad that those things still gnaw at me at night and affect how I behave with my family.

I know once I get caught up, things will quiet down again. I know there will be other crazy times in the future, and know that I can’t relax until I get everything done. What I need to know is how to clearly separate my work from my life. If I keep falling into this trap while I’m single, what am I going to do when I’m married and have children? I think distraction is the key, finding other things to occupy my mind when I’m not at the office. I don’t expect that to work 100% of the time, and I certainly don’t want to fall into the opposite extreme and not worry about being late if I haven’t been fired for it after ten years. That’s not me.

The weekend’s not over yet. I’ve got plenty of movies to watch, and extended family will be visiting as well. I’m taking this time to intentionally type out my thoughts and feelings, to get them out of my brain and make room for other things. I think returning to work with a clean slate might make it easier to tackle the daunting stack ahead of me. I wonder if this is why people take vacations.