My writing and my personal life have suffered of late, and that’s because work is dominating my time. Rather, I’m letting it dominate my time. And that’s not a good thing.
Due to economic slowdown, I’ve been capped at 40hrs/wk on the clock at work, and overtime has to be approved or justified. Well, since I’ve been behind at work, I’ve been working off the clock as a contractor, not billing for time. Last week I worked until midnight twice, and had already hit 40hrs by Thursday night. In order to make a meeting on Friday, I carved out some hours from earlier in the week (likely when I was eating supper).
I told my manager about this, in work chat, about what I’ve been doing and why. He made it clear, in no uncertain terms: there is to be no unlogged work. Since we’re in a critical point in the program, there will always be justification for overtime. That comforts me.
Unspoken is that it also absolves the company of liability. If I were to keep record of time actually worked and not billed, I’d have a legal case. So no, no unlogged work.
Seriously, if my last job at the datacenter taught me anything, is that you never work for free, even if you’re doing it to make up for lost time during the week.
So now that I’m coming out of the end of that nightmare, I’m looking around at my living room, where I don’t spend any time during the week, and wondering where I’ve gone in my life and what I’m working so hard for at my WFH desk in the bedroom. Where has my internal life gone? Why have I dedicated so much headspace to practical projects, in work and my personal life? Where has playtime gone? Wither has gone passions, whence passions once roamed rampant?
I can’t say. Not won’t. Can’t.