Sarah and I just got back from a week-long trip to the Northeast. (Is there a better word for the collective locales of Boston, southern Vermont and New York City? New England stops at the New York border, right?) It was a mostly-vacation for both of us. Averaged over the seven days, probably eight workday hours out of ten were spent schmoozing, eating, shopping and diving off cliffs, and only two were spent on our laptops working. This could have ended me up in trouble, workload-wise, but the vacation happened to coincide with lulls in a few of my active projects, so I fortunately able to spend most of the week free of undue stress.
Nevertheless, it’s always really tough to take a vacation as a full-time freelancer. As much as I try to plan them, project schedules are a beast of their own desires. I got lucky this time; the week could have just as easily been one of hectic deadlines, forcing me to bust out my laptop at inopportune times, like on the subway, or at my sister’s wedding.
On the flip side, of course, is that a freelancer’s life gives one the chance to take vacations whenever they mood, and pocketbook, pleases. We are a highly mobile class; it’s just as easy for me to respond to email in, say, New Delhi, as it is from my desk. For this, I feel very fortunate. I have the kind of mind that requires consistently fresh stimuli in order to avoid boredom. That I can take my work with me to the porch, or a coffeeshop, or to Boston, and get just as much done—or quite likely more—makes me a very happy worker bee.
The tricky part is avoiding the guilt. (Oh, but isn’t that always the case for sons of Jewish mothers?) It comes from both sides. If it’s not the guilt of waking up in a foreign city with all sorts of lovely stuff to do and finding myself working instead, then it’s the guilt of having fun while my to-do list remains untended. The solution I’ve found is to set some short-term, project-based goals, work until I meet them, then feel free to spend the rest of the day galavanting, guilt-free.
It’s easy to think, as a independent worker, that without constant attention, your whole business will fall apart. I’m finding this to be less and less true. There were days on this trip when circumstances prevented me from working or getting online until late at night. And yet, nothing caught fire or broke down. Instead, I was able to check out and enjoy my vacation. In the long run, this makes me feel healthier and more creative and, in turn, more excited to get back and do my job.