I'm just coming to the end of what has probably been the busiest spring of my life. Over a period of 12 weeks, I will only have been at home for four full weekends. This might not seem like a big deal to 'proper' travellers, but when you have two school-aged children and you are trying to keep on top of a job, the housework and other commitments in the meantime, it becomes pretty difficult. The sad thing is that I have discovered there really is such a thing as too many holidays. All but one of these weekends away have been for 'leisure' rather than 'business', yet I've found I haven't been able to enjoy them as much as I should because I am too busy thinking about all the other things I need to be doing and haven't had a chance to just sit back and breathe.
It started with a short break near Chichester with friends (see How to holiday for free). It was lovely - we walked, we ate lots and we generally chilled out. Even better, we didn't have to worry about money. At this point, I was still relaxed. Even so, there was lots to sort out to enable us to go away in the first place. Because we went without the children, we had to sort out who was looking after them while we were away. Who would pick them up from school on Friday and take them on Monday? Would they do their homework? Did they need to take anything in on Monday? Who would make their packed lunches? Was their uniform clean and ironed? Being self-employed also makes things more difficult in many ways. I can't walk out of the door and come back from my holiday just to pick up where I left off. There's no one to cover me in my absence. I don't get paid for my holidays, so I have to work stupid hours before I go and when I come back to make up for the time I'm away. I have to justify to clients why I'm not replying or why I can't meet a perfectly reasonable deadline because I'm simply not there. All of this meant that going away and coming back were just slightly more stressful than they should have been.
The next two weekends were at home. They weren't exactly relaxing, though - we had various activities planned, including a bridesmaid dress fitting and a day out at Dover Castle, plus I was working a lot at the weekends as well as during the week, having agreed to more work than I probably should have done (another downside of self-employment - you can't often afford to turn down work!). Still, the exhaustion wasn't kicking in quite yet.
The following two weekends were either end of our family holiday to the Isle of Wight. We had a great - if busy and rather cold - time. BUT it was the first holiday where I hadn't really been able to relax and forget about the rest of life. Niggling in the back of my head was all the work and other stuff I had to do when I came back. I'd also been working pretty solidly right up until we went away. In fact, the day before we left, I'd had to stop work mid-afternoon to go to London for a concert. I got home at 1.00am, set the alarm for 6.30am and got up early to finish some work and meet a deadline before we left to catch the ferry. Okay, maybe the exhaustion was starting to kick in at this point. I was also well aware of what I was coming back to. Having told a client I'd be back working on the Sunday to pick up anything I'd not done during the last week, I realised it was my son's birthday party that day. Add to that unpacking, washing and shopping, after getting back late the night before, and it didn't leave a lot of time for work. Worse (well, not worse - it was lovely, just not in terms of timing), it was my mum's 70th birthday the following day - a family day out followed by an evening meal - which meant working stupid hours on the Sunday (around party, unpacking, etc.) to try to get on top of everything. I knew all this was coming while we were on holiday. I also knew it would still be the Easter holidays when we got back, so I would have the kids at home while I was trying to work, and I knew that I would be going away again the following weekend. I tried really hard to relax and forget everything while we were away, but I just couldn't stop worrying about how much I had to do when I got back and how I was going to fit everything in. I was also starting to realise just how few weekends I would have to recharge over the next couple of months.
The following weekend, I went to Champneys. Yes, I know, how awful - a spa break. Any ounce of sympathy you may have had has swiftly evaporated. I think this kind of made things worse - I was off for a lovely, relaxing pamper weekend and I didn't feel like I had any right to be stressed about it. Of course, I was working right up until we went went, including all day Saturday (we went on a Sunday) and I was pretty tired. I also had to get everything ready for the kids on Monday as I wouldn't be there for the school run. Still, I got up to date (as far as I could) with work, had a lovely long chat with my friend on the way and resolved to try to chill out and forget everything. I did a pretty good job. We swam, we ate, we exercised (yes, really), we had massages and we spent a lot of time doing very little. It was bliss. Even if my brain didn't quite switch off, my body certainly needed the downtime. And actually, by the time we left, I was feeling fairly chilled mentally. Maybe the timing was better than I thought. Then I got home on the Monday night to find I had a whole pile of new work and everything had gone tits-up with an event I was supposed to be organising the following weekend (another reason behind my stress over the previous few weeks). I felt like all the good of the spa had been undone in one fell swoop.
The following weekend should have been the afore-mentioned event, but it was cancelled in the end. On the one hand, this took away a lot of my stress; on the other hand, cancelling brought a whole host of other things to do. Regardless, it was lovely to have a weekend sleeping in my own bed - I can't really say 'at home', because I was at the hairdresser's, a fun run (for the kids, not me!) and a St George's Day parade (kids again) - plus working, of course. But at least I had a reasonable chance of getting some sleep.
The same couldn't be said of the weekend afterwards, which was my sister's hen do. It was a weekend of fun in Nottingham - fancy dress, quiz, soft play, laser quest and crazy golf. Basically, it was a chance to pretend to be a child for the weekend, and it was great. I had by now got used to not being home for the weekend. I duly did as much work as I could beforehand, left Lee a shopping list and made sure everything was ready and organised for Monday, as I'd be back late on the Sunday. Fully prepared, I resolved to forget about work and take some me-time on the train. The latter wasn't quite as successful as it could have been, as I didn't go more than an hour without having to change trains. Still, I was having so much fun (at the hen do and not on the train) that I did manage to put everything else to the back of my mind. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to sleep very much (if at all - hard to say!) on the Saturday night. I also left home early on the Saturday and got home late on the Sunday. And despite the fact that I spent a lot of time sitting down (on the train this time), I always find travelling really tiring. The end result was feeling absolutely shattered by the time I got home.
The following weekend, we had tickets for a show in London with the kids, so we'd booked a hotel to make a weekend of it. I can't say it was entirely relaxing, as it was with the kids - cue constant sniping at each other and whinging about being hungry/thirsty/tired/hot. (On the plus side, we didn't have to sort out childcare.) Still, I was finally managing to concentrate on the 'here and now' and enjoy myself, rather than worrying about all the things I should have been doing. Work was at a manageable level and I'd had a little time off the week before to begin to recharge. The weather was glorious (hottest early May bank holiday on record!), which really raised my spirits. And we didn't have too many expectations of what we were going to do, which allowed us to wander at our own pace without rushing to fit everything in. Although part of me would probably have liked to stay at home, the rest of me really enjoyed being away without too many constraints on my time. Plus it also helped that I knew I was going to spend the following weekend at home.
Yup, the next weekend (last weekend, in fact) was spent at home. It was great. Other than a trip to the theatre on the Sunday night, we had nothing planned. We caught up with chores, did some shopping, visited family and watched a lot of TV. I lay in both days. I didn't do any work. It was a much-needed weekend of normality, and never have I been so grateful not to be on holiday.
This weekend I will be back in London, and this time it's not for a holiday. I'll spend Friday night in a hotel and then all of Saturday will be spent training, before getting home on Saturday night. Sunday through to Thursday will be spent on heaps of post-training work on top of my usual work. I will be putting in extra hours to get as much done as humanly possible, because on Friday I will be going away again. This time it's my sister's wedding in Newcastle. The wedding is just one day, of course, but as it's at the other end of the country we'll be spending all day Friday travelling there. And seeing as how we'll have travelled all that way, we feel it's only right that we catch up with a few friends who live in the area, so we won't be home until Tuesday night. Needless to say, the rest of the week (and no doubt the following weekend) will be spent catching up with work again. It's also half-term. Plus point: I don't have to have everything prepared for school when we get back. Downside: I'll have the children at home while I'm trying to work. I've been here before...
But I'm going to try my hardest to put work and everything else out of my mind while we're away. Although the rest of the year is pretty busy, I know things will start to calm down after that week, and I should have more time to keep on top of work and actually relax too. It's the last of my 12-week marathon. More importantly, it's my sister's wedding - it's a one-off, joyful, amazing event and one that I want to enjoy every moment of. I want to be there for it mentally as well as physically and not have the back of my mind filled with thoughts of all the things I should be doing. That has happened too many times this year; trips away have certainly not been spoilt - God, no, I'll always love holidays! - but they have definitely been marred by taking too much on. I've learnt my lesson in that respect.
So what am I going to do to make sure I don't burn myself out again? Mostly, I have to learn to say 'no' - no to work and no to fitting too much in. This spring has been unusual in that I've had no say in the timing of a lot of events, but I need to make an effort in the future not to plan too many things too close together. I need to make sure I have some weekends at home that aren't spent working. I need to try not to work evenings and weekends unless I really have to. I need to not take on more work than I can comfortably manage. I need to switch my email to 'out of office' during weekends and holidays so that I don't take work with me. And I need to enjoy what I'm doing and make the most of every moment - work and chores can wait. As I've read so many times, no one gets to the end of their life and wishes they'd spent more time at work.
Trouble is, if I don't keep on agreeing to extra work, how can I afford the holidays? And is it wrong that after a few weekends at home, I know I'll really be looking forward to going away in the summer? Yup, don't worry, it's only a temporary blip in the holiday obsession. Normal service will be resumed shortly...
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