Sometimes, like this weekend, I've slaved away for 14 hours each day and missed entirely the 12 hours of daylight between dawn and dusk. I've forgone the idea of having two days off and a little relaxation for a whiteboard, a creative brief, and a deadline more times than naught.
For the 9-to-5er looking in, it seems horrid. No benefits plan. No overtime pay. No sick days or vacation pay.
Friends joke casually but with undercurrents of concern: "You know, weekends? Those are two days that you don't work!" and then they venture off, without me, to drink beers, watch the game, get pedicures, lunge around, hit the climbing gym, run a trail, clean the house, do the laundry.
I haven't done laundry since Christmas (gasp!). I've worn these pants 7 times.
The crazy thing is, as much as I covet free time, my runs, my workouts, my plays with Harley, my tea dates with old friends, when I am here, slogging away, I kinda don't mind it. Sometimes I am bitter, sure. Sometimes I wish I was on a mountain trail. Sometimes I wish it was another way. But I built this little company from the ground up. It's rooted in my heart. And I love it to the very inside of my soul. And when I'm here, it's just a part of me. It's not work; it's instinct.
And it's odd when people say to me "Kim, you've got to find some balance."
I mean, I get it. It makes sense. I do work a lot.
Sundays aren't for building marketing plans they're for dishes and crossword puzzles and snowboarding on the North Shore.
I get that in its truest sense.
Then again, this marketing plan is killer, my client is going to be wowed, and my heart is a bit aflutter about the idea on page 8 that really zings.
What is balance any way?
My balance is nourishing my gut with the things that propel me to do better, be better, and make differences – however big or small. Sometimes that means 5 days of work and two days of mindless play and creative rejuvenation. Other times it means 18 hour days, Starbucks for dinner, and a brain on overdrive searching for the next great tagline, colour palette, pattern, medium to bring a smile to someone else's face on Monday.
"You're married to you work," my friend said like it was pathetic.
Maybe.
But the work ignites this little spark in my belly.
And I love it.
Even at 11 pm on Sunday when I haven't had the chance to see the light of day or put on a load of laundry.
I still love it.
Maybe balance is overrated.
or maybe I've had balance all along.
