Time Off

If you’re working from home, you’ve probably gotten pretty good at it by now. You’ve got a corner of your house that makes a good Zoom background. You’ve tried out several routines and maybe found one that works most days. Maybe you’ve gone full circle from pajamas all day to elevated loungewear to realizing that you work better when you’re wearing real pants. 

One thing we haven’t mastered during this pandemic? Taking time off. 

Working from home can create a false sense of “time off” when you’re used to working in an office. (See: pajamas.) But people are actually reporting that they’re working more now than before. 

The boundaries between working and not-working get blurry when the space they occupy is the same. You might feel like you’re always on call. Or you’re answering emails at weird hours. Or you begin your workday at 5AM because if you start now, you can get an hour and a half in before the kids wake up. (Balancing childcare with work is its own monster: the space-time continuum has suddenly bent so that it’s possible to always be working and, at the same time, feel like you’re never getting anything done.)

We’re not really working from home. We’re living at work.

And for most of us, the pace of work is expected to be the same as it was before, even though we’re in a pandemic. This push-forward-push-ahead pressure is a collective trauma response. Our brains automatically choose fight, flight, or freeze--we’re in survival mode. Action sometimes gives us a sense of control. So, when so much feels out of control, being productive at work (go go go) seems like the only thing to do. 

Nothing is “normal.” Everything has changed. But we can’t process that, so we continue to plow ahead with productivity and metrics and meetings as if we aren’t living through the most world-altering event of our lifetimes. The election last week brought stress and anxiety to the forefront. And the United States is still experiencing a raging pandemic. Yet still, we work.

How to respond? 

MANTRAS TO VALIDATE EMOTIONAL EXPERIENCE

Notice how you’re talking to yourself. Are you motivating yourself with guilt or shame? 

I should be working more. 

Or: I don’t know why I’m so tired all the time. 

I’m stronger than this. It’s not that big of a deal. 

These thoughts fuel guilt and an invalidation of feelings. Treat yourself with kindness instead. Mantras are phrases you can repeat to yourself as a way to support your wellbeing. 

Start small: I am tired because my nervous system is on high alert. 

I am not alone in this stressful experience--the world is experiencing this, too. 

This is hard, and my stress is valid. 

I give myself permission to take care of myself. 

I connect with my body and emotions. What I am feeling is real. 

Right now it’s okay to feel [angry, sad, numb, content, happy.]

BE CREATIVE, BE MINDFUL

If your employer allows, see if it’s possible to flex your schedule. Being “available” between 9AM and 5PM is nearly impossible if you are caring for children, but even if you live alone, your employer may be interested to hear about how flexing your schedule could increase the quality of your work. (And you get to work when your brain can handle it best.)

Be mindful of how much time you are spending on work each day. Try to reinforce boundaries to separate personal time from work time. Turn work notifications off during personal time, if possible. And during personal time, resist the urge to check work email “just to see.” Being present in the moment with whatever you’re doing will help you feel calmer, and like your time is more meaningful. The human brain isn’t as good at multitasking as we think. 

GIVE YOURSELF PERMISSION TO TAKE TIME OFF

When working from home, it can be difficult to admit you’re experiencing burnout because, you think, “it could be worse.” 

I’m not an essential worker helping people at a hospital every day. I’m on my couch. See again: pajamas. What do I have to complain about? 

Writer Jill Duffy calls this the “Pity Olympics”:

“When we notice or feel a negative emotion for ourselves and our situation, we immediately negate it by reminding ourselves that someone else has it worse. Thinking, ‘I hate this little apartment and would really like a bigger place with a backyard,’ gets quashed by, ‘at least I still have a job.’ ‘I'm so sad at not being able to see my friends and family,’ gets quashed by, ‘Think of how many people died from covid-19 alone without their families.’ The rules of the Pity Olympics say whoever has the most pitiful situation is the only one who gets to feel bad for themselves, and that's rubbish. We can recognize our own traumas, discomforts, or negative feels AND have sympathy for people who have it worse.” 

This cognitive dissonance is something that can feel so challenging to experience--holding space for both comfortable and incredibly painful experiences. 

You are allowed to be having a hard time, even if you are safe, employed, and healthy. You are allowed to be burnt out. You, too, deserve a break. Give yourself permission to recharge, even as your imagination explores empathy for others. 

If possible, think about taking time off not just as recovery, but as a preventative. Don’t let getting sick be the only reason for a day off. Yes, your body is demanding a forced slow down, but your brain needs a break just as much. 

If you have the ability to take time off, consider a short (or long) staycation. Tackle a few home projects if that will contribute to your ease later, but try to reserve most of your staycation time for true rest. 

SET YOUR SIGHTS ON THE FUTURE

One of the hardest things about living through a pandemic is that it can feel like there’s nothing to look forward to. Many of us have given up making plans as our “surely the pandemic will be over by ________” projections have moved further and further out. 

And so we reframe and re-adjust our expectations. We set our sights on different, maybe smaller joys. Humans need things to look forward to. Once you’ve scheduled your staycation, enjoy the anticipation in the lead-up, as well as the days off, themselves. 

It’s not so much about finding a silver lining, the consolation prize to the less-than-ideal experience--it’s more about being deliberate about planning time off to spend on things that are enjoyable or restorative for you. Things that are still possible within the constraints of the pandemic.

Thanksgiving this year won’t be a big family gathering, but I am looking forward to making favorite recipes. 

I don’t have any travel plans to look forward to, but I can count down to taking a day off work to go on a long hike. 

I can plan a day to decorate for the holidays. I can set aside an evening for myself on the day my favorite writer’s new book comes out. 

I can count down the days to my week off, even if I’m not “going anywhere or doing anything.” I am looking forward to resting. 

Allow the feeling of anticipation to be a salve to our current uncertainty. Hold that feeling close.