No, that’s not a typo. I don’t mean “The Three-Day Workweek”. I mean “The Three-Day Workday”.
Tiring, is what it is.
Back when I worked in advertising, I used to work obscenely long hours all the time. It wasn’t unusual for me to sleep in the office, and I’d frequently work for 24 hours plus with no sleep. My record workday without any sleep at all was 41 hours. My record amount of time spent in the office, working pretty much constantly with only short 1-2 hour power naps every so often, was 71 hours.
But nowadays my life is a lot more healthy. Usually.
In general, I work about five hours per day Monday-Friday, and about half an hour each on Saturday and Sunday if I feel like it. This is much nicer than my old way of doing things.
But just occasionally I’ll come across a week that reminds me of that old lifestyle.
Like this week, for instance.
I do actually quite enjoy these occasional bouts of very intense working, now that they’re not the norm.
This week I was straddling various timezones.
In the mornings, I’d get up and do my usual day’s work. I’d then dive straight into forensics training – the Online Advanced FTK course from AccessData (which was very good, I recommend it) – which was working on New York time. At about 6pm London time, we’d have a break for lunch, then circle back for the final part of each day, which ended at 10pm London time. At that point, I’d generally have to do a bit more work for another client before being able to log off.
By the time it got to Thursday, the final day of forensics training, I was very tired.
I logged off at 10pm, did a couple of hours of work to wrap something up for a client, and then received an urgent message for a four-hour job that had to be done before the following morning.
I’m quite good these days at not taking that sort of thing on. Unless it’s related to an investigation, which it was.
I finished my work week at 2am on Friday morning, packed up, tidied around, and went to bed.
At 10am my mother arrived for the day. By this point I was essentially running on pure adrenaline, but somehow I didn’t feel too tired. I think my body had resigned itself to spending very little time asleep.
My mother has a tendency to say hilarious things, and this week was no exception.
What was she hearing?!
She left in the evening and I did the day’s work which I hadn’t managed to do while she was here.
On Saturday I met up with my BFF – we’re finally both in the same country for a few weeks, so I get to see him more often, which is exciting. We were both a little the worse for wear after tiring days beforehand, so we spent Saturday schlepping around Soho, wandering into cafes for sitting-down breaks and then shopping for clothes (him) and fridge magnets (me).
I walked the five miles home from the centre of London, because I’m trying to get back into the habit of walking more.
Today I woke up and spent some time tearing up bits of my staircase and listening to Slash, before admitting to myself just how tired I was and curling up in a chair to write this. There’s a load of stuff I should probably be doing, but it’s been a long week and I don’t want to start next week feeling exhausted, so instead I think I’m going to settle in with Star Trek, wine, a bath and chick lit, in no particular order.
Things I wrote elsewhere
I didn’t write anything new this week, except on this blog, because I was too busy with other things. However, I did take this picture of some lilies, which I’m quite pleased with.
Until next time