One of my favourite bits of the A-Level Psychology course was learning about sleep patterns, rhythms and the natural science behind when our bodies decide to wake up or become drowsy.
Since returning from Bath for an intern-based meeting, I have found myself in a new circadian rhythm of waking up at a regular time, earlier than what is usual for me and having the spirit of productivity coursing through my blood. It’s a new type of energy and fits quite comfortably with the changing of the seasons, the house getting colder and clocks going back.
We have, by no means, an estate to keep track of in the house I live in. But we have taken on a bi-weekly gardener to help maintain the garden and keep the place in good shape. There is a fairly new sense of ‘taking care’ of the house, something that has bled through to my psyche about protecting my sense of focus and drive.
This week, I have been hilariously busy with my freelance work having been dragged (now kicking and screaming) onto a project after the original editor dropped out. I have been editing, formatting, occasionally transcribing when linguists fail me, cleaning up other people’s messes and generally being the go-to guy. And I pick up this responsibility because it’s inherent in my person to prefer being the one to get things sorted, being that hand that you can touch and I will run until the finish line is crossed. I am very much a creature of ‘if you want something doing properly, by and large, do it yourself’. This made collaborative work at university that touch more testing (and Publishing is very collaborative).
A friend told me after I had reached Day 6 that she was concerned that I needed to take breaks and time off for myself. It made me laugh because in my head I was fine. I had maybe an hour during late lunch in the weekdays where no emails came through and I had my Sunday free (as it turned out, I did not). To me, I had time to breathe. But this is entirely a matter of subjectivity and stepping back from it, I have not had a day this week without work from this project. And that is stifling. I am lucky that the company I freelance for is very open and friendly with negotiations about pay however it is another thing entirely to assume any less of the mental grievance that is taking away someone’s weekend.
There is a mentality with my project manager that if she can give me a few files in the late evening, before the next day, then this will alleviate what work I have for the next day. But it is one of the things that goes ‘just because you’ve managed to flatten out the amount of work, doesn’t mean the smooth and seemingly endless chain of work isn’t less imposing on my ability to cope’.
Today is a new week and I woke up to it from a rather ugly dream-turned-nightmare about my mother using something of mine that has value without asking. A real-life object that sits in the fridge. The dream sequence ended with me full-on shouting with the fire and velocity of hell behind me, red in the face I was. I was so distraught. I woke up in a bad mood borrowed from that dream and have immediately realised how unconsciously fragile my mental state has become in terms of being near to the point of snapping if something were to trigger me.
The moral, I assume, is to keep your head. Take breaks? Be aware of what you can manage and change (I will certainly be informing my project manager that next weekend if a work email even LOOKS in my direction then I am aborting myself into an unfindable, off-Wi-Fi mode).
Try and find me then.
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