I spent most of the week at work wishing for Friday afternoon to be here Right Now. My coworkers joined in the wishing.
We have been handed three projects, each with overly aggressive timelines, each due about the same time. Juggling everything is mentally taxing, and extra hours spent working every week is physically taxing. This has been going on for almost three months now.
A couple Thursdays ago I was so exhausted I became ill and had to go home. I went straight to bed. Head met pillow, and I was out before I could draw another breath. My wife told me later she was worried because I didn’t move at all the entire six hours I was asleep. Not exactly what you’d call a good work-life balance.
Last week the same happened to one of my workers. We may work a few hours over the weekend, but generally, by the close of Monday, Tuesday at the latest, we are quite ready for Friday.
Today, the end of the week day was here at last. But today we all wanted it to last. Crazy talk! Except for one key feature about this weekend: Easter. Who wants to do any work on weekend, looming deadlines or not?
And yet today, the hours flew by. I checked the clock, expecting to see about 11:00. To my surprise, 1:15. Where did more than two hours go?
Time accelerated as the day wore on. Suddenly it was time to go, but I wasn’t ready. I will have to finish my task for the day over the weekend. Grrr!
The speed of time snapped back to normal, after crawling at an agonizing pace during my trip home. Time’s way of effecting its own work-life balance, I suppose.