One of the clichés of working for ourself is that, when you’re self-employed, your boss is an arsehole. And, in my case, that’s true. Traditionally the beginning of the year is one of my quietest periods, and so I’m able to chill out a little, attend to some self-care stuff, and try not to worry about work picking up soon.

This year, for a couple of reasons, I’ve really had to it the ground running.

And so, the work creep starts.

I start working in the evenings as well as during the day. And then I start feeling guilty for not working the weekend. And then I stop taking time away from my desk during the day.

Self-granted respite

This is not why I decided to go self-employed a decade ago. Hell, I used to only work a four day week, so I could spend an extra day with my daughters, until school stole them away from me.

So, today, I’m pushing back. It won’t help me, my bank balance nor my clients if I crash into Easter in an exhausted, burnt-out state. So, after I dropped the girls off at school, I restarted my “morning commute” beach walk.

Shoreham Beach — 7th February 2022

I’m going to try to make that a daily commitment. Every day I’m here at home, I do that walk after dropping off the girls, or as soon as I practically can, should I have a 9am meeting. It’s a small step to defending myself against cyclical burn-out, but (another cliché), long journeys begin with small steps.

Wish me luck.