The title is part of a comment I heard the other week on a bus: “You know how it is - work, work, work, and there’s never any time to do anything else”. When I wrote my last blog, that was very much how I felt. I was considering the possibility of reducing my hours at work, and looking at taking up some of the things I didn’t have to do but wanted to, in terms of studying and learning new skills.
4 months on, then…
Well, in relation to my last blog, my biggest achievement is probably that, after years of dreaming about it, I’ve finally gone part time at work. Since January, I’ve gone down to three days a week, a change that was achieved by the simple method of, erm, asking. Up until the moment I got the ‘yes’ back from my manager, I seriously thought that my application would just be laughed off, and I’d be told to come back when I had a few kids to justify my request. Nothing of the sort - the reaction went a long way to prove one of the adages I’ve always gone by - ‘If you don’t ask, you don’t get’. Colleagues were actually really positive when I told them about my change. Most were also slightly wistful - of the ‘I wish I could afford to do that’ type. When I asked them why they thought they couldn’t, the responses tended to involve mortgage, price of living, affording bringing up kids.
Whilst I must admit, initially I did worry about the cut in my salary, even without all off the issues mentioned to contend with, I soon shrugged that off as I realised I could still quite comfortably afford all the things that I needed, and really only needed to make a few restrictions in the things I wanted. It’s made me a bit more selective in the things that I do spend money on - so I find rather than just getting something I sort of want, I’m spending on things I really value - time out with friends over DVDs that I probably won’t get round to watching - and finding alternatives for other things - trips to the local library rather than buying books I probably won’t read more than once; free comedy TV and radio recordings; very cheap theatre tickets through a local initiative at the Young Vic (I saw King Lear for £2.50!); and time spent browsing Freecycle before looking to other sources for all sorts of things.
Funnily enough, the one colleague I spoke to the most about my cut in hours, and who expressed a similar desire to go part time is our receptionist - a young mum living with her baby son and husband in rented accommodation, probably on a salary not too different from mine (i.e., not very much). Each time she talked about wanting to go part time, she said she felt torn between worrying about getting on the ‘property ladder’ and spending more time with her little boy. With some totally unbiased and balanced input from myself (“why do you need a mortgage? - look at the state of the market - all those homeowners are probably wishing they stuck to renting” and “Surely spending quality time with your son is worth more than whatever anyone can pay you, as long as you’ve got food on the table and a roof over your head” - like I said, totally unbiased arguments), she actually went from just wishing about it to taking steps to making it happen. She’s now down to three days a week as well, and tells me she wishes she’d never come back full time in the first place.
Back to my own experiences, though. As soon as I knew I was going part time, I signed up for two courses - one in Arabic, one in Counselling Skills. What I didn’t know, at this time, was that I was about to become one of our roving trainers at work - being sent around the country to help run remote training of the courses we offer. In the first seven weeks of the year, I travelled up North five times, for either one or two nights away a week. Suddenly I found that, rather than the calm and relaxing time I’d been expecting, I was plunged into even more stress than any time I’d worked five days a week. I was missing classes, and spending free time catching up with these, and also coming back to the office with work that piled up while I was away, and needed to be tackled, all the time with the knowledge that I’d soon be off again. We actually started joking at work that I was away so often, they’d need a picture to recognise me when I was actually in. Joking aside, I spent the first two months of the year almost constantly stressed, working longer hours and wondering whether the whole part-time thing had been such a great idea after all.
Then a lot of things seemed to fall into my place. My manager re-evaluated my work-load, so that it actually reflected the hours I was in, taking into account all the time I was away training. I gradually started learning to say ‘no’ as well, if I was asked to do something that I really couldn’t fit into my schedule, both inside and out of work. I got into the groove of studying again, and was supported by friends made on both courses. And suddenly, all the benefits that I’d hoped would flow from working fewer hours started to flood in.
Over the past few months, I’ve reconnected with a lot of friends who, over the past few years, there’s simply not been time to see that often. Studying at the university I used to work at, I’ve had a number of lunches and after class/work meetings with old colleagues who remain friends. I’ve started volunteering regularly at a Forest Garden in North London, just once a month, but great for getting out, meeting others, and doing a bit of work with my hands. And did I mention the holidays?
The other day, I worked out all the time I’ve had or am planning to have off work this year, made possible by a combination of my newly-reduced annual leave, buffered by my two non-working days, weekends and time off in lieu:
- 5 days in Greece in March - a visit, to see two close friends, that I’ve been planning and putting off for the past 5 years, either because of lack of time or money. Although I wasn’t keen to fly, taking the train and ferry just wasn’t feasible (3 days!), and so I’ve put this down as my flights for the year;
- a day trip to Portsmouth to see a friend I’d not seen since I left there;
- 11 days down in Dorset: 9 days in Weymouth at the flat of a friend’s parents - 4 with relatives and 5 alone; and then 3 days at the Hilfield Project;
- 10 days in Edinburgh, staying with a friend or two, enjoying the Free Fringe;
- the last 10 days of Ramadan off
- ten days in Cumbria (two working).
That’s immense - apart from Ramadan, then, 35 days that I’ll have spent away, doing with them whatever I please, seeing friends and generally just enjoying not working. And that’s not even counting the other weekends, and the rest of my two non-working days. Compared to two weeks away last year, that’s got to be something worth going part time for.
Now I’m off to take my evening constitutional along the sea-front, maybe take a few dozen pictures in the local nature reserve, and possibly grab some fish and chips on the way home. I might even put on a film, or call a friend, then have myself an early night. I’ll probably spend the day on the beach tomorrow, catching up on my correspondence, or reading the Oliver Sacks’ book that I’ve just started since I bought it last year. So much free time, so many things I could do - and all only if I want to.
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