Redefining My “Day Off”
Downtime has new meaning when you stop the Monday-to-Friday grind
Anyone who works weekends knows the joy of taking a day off in the middle of the work week. Grocery stores are less crowded. If you can avoid rush hour, the streets and public transit are easy to navigate. Running errands in the middle of a Wednesday feels like a secret world of retirees, stay-at-home parents and the financially independent.
It’s one of the reasons I don’t mind working weekends for my news writing gig. I actually look forward to running errands during the bizarro alternate universe where there are no lines or crowded buses.
But when you’re self-employed, especially in the early stages of launching your business, days off in the traditional sense just don’t happen.
When you’re starting your own business, there’s always something to tend to, worry about, take care of. The to-do list is always repopulating. You’ll never get everything done.
It’s important to have days where you get a lot of things done. It’s also important to have days where you get nothing done.
I scheduled such a day for myself recently. I keep track of all of my shifts, appointments and responsibilities on a desk calendar. It’s colour-coded to give myself a quick visual check that the main revenue streams (my news writing job and my consulting business) are being represented. Days that aren’t colour-coded are spent booking doctors appointments, hair appointments or other admin tasks that keep my life and body running smoothly.
For the past few months, nearly every day on the calendar has been coloured in. So when I looked down and saw two white days back-to-back and no appointments scheduled in one, I seized the opportunity. I cancelled the doggie day care for that day and wrote one obligation in the while square: “Cherry Beach off-leash dog park”.
This dog park is Pearl’s favourite. It’s a huge plot of land on Lake Ontario. There’s space to run, space to swim and so many smells! I don’t own a car in the city, so it’s not the easiest for us to get there. I usually rely on invites from her neighbourhood dog friends or will splurge on an Uber.
This dog park is very popular, which means during the weekend the place is packed with dogs and their owners. Pearl is relatively well-behaved, but the few times we’ve gone on the weekend haven’t exactly been a stress-free adventure for me. She tends to be overstimulated when there are too many dogs around. She’ll try to play with everyone, pick fights when they don’t want to play back, and in general will ignore the sound of her name no matter how many times I try to keep her in check.
It’s a nightmare on the weekend, but an absolute dream during the week. Monday to Friday, during regular business hours, the only people going to this dog park are professional dog walkers. The dogs are in their packs, monitored by people who are paid to keep behaviours in check. We might run into a few dog owners with their one dog, but it’s still a fraction of the human/dog population we’d have to deal with on a weekend.
When I first adopted this puppy, I thought our lives would be full of adventures like this. I fantasized about going for hikes with my high-energy potcake. Maybe kayaking on a lake. At least exploring new neighbourhoods on a regular basis.
But as we boarded the bus bound for the beach, I realized I’ve failed my adventurous dog and the life I wanted for us.
She started showing signs of unease when we waited at the bus stop. This was a departure from our usual route, which would have taken us to the lakefront, one of our usual walking routes. The last time she boarded a bus was a year ago. An event long forgotten in her memory. She refused to board on her own. I had to carry her up the step. She rode the bus nestled right between my legs, tail tucked between her back legs. On alert, working very hard to trust I was taking her someplace safe.
I’ve had this dog for over a year and have yet to socialize her to ride on public transit. Instead we’ve fallen into a pattern of the same four walking routes in our neighbourhood. They all lead to a park in some way and she’s never complained (because she’s a dog). But routine is the opposite of adventure. And routine is all I’ve given this pup.
I’m sorry Pearl, I kept telling myself. I haven’t taken you out on enough adventures.
Pearl’s anxiety eased the second we stepped off the bus. The familiar sights and smells of the dog park wiped out any fear. We could not get to the off-leash area fast enough. Once inside, she kept leaping in excitement, circling around me feet to show her gratitude with this surprise adventure.
We spent hours at the beach. She waded in the water, ran through the grass, attempted to meet some ducks and made countless new friends. By the time we headed home, she was exhausted and oh so happy.
And me? I felt like I had just spent a weekend at a wellness retreat.
For two hours I just had to focus on the dog, walking along the paths of the dog park, making chit chat with the other dog owners we passed along the way. I didn’t check my email or texts. I just saw the world through the eyes of my dog as she explored her favourite place.
Technically I worked on my “day off”. I woke and posted to my company’s social media feed to help promote client work. I blogged. I even arranged to meet my tenant at the dog park to get her rent cheques for the year.
And yet the day as a whole felt as restorative as a typical lazy Sunday.
This is the work-life balance when you focus on multiple income streams as opposed to one 9-to-5 job. I can put in a bit of effort for a few hours to fan future income. The rest of the day is mine to enjoy. I’m not constrained to forcing my downtime into the same two-day weekend as everyone else. I can schedule it for a time that’s actually more stress-free and less hectic.
When I was comforting my dog on the bus and seeking atonement for not taking her on more adventures, I was actually talking to myself. I’ve been so focused on helping future me achieve financial independence, I’m not allowing present me time to enjoy the life I want right now.
When I had a 9-to-5 job, weekends were a given, and I would frequently waste them away binge-watching shows or doing absolutely nothing.
Now that I have to schedule downtime, I have a chance to schedule joy. To prioritize the adventures I always dreamed of having, but never put in the effort to make them happen.
After all, the dog deserves it.
