a person who compulsively works excessively hard and long hours.
Not something I thought I would ever call myself or in-turn be called. I’ve always had a very relaxed work ethic, I work hard yes. But I know when to stop, I enjoy relaxing after a hard day’s work and I appreciate that despite being self employed we should be warranted the same holiday time as those in full time 9-5 jobs.
Yet, whilst I still believe in all of the above, I simply don’t enjoying relaxing any more.
I struggle to switch off. I’m itching to get back to my laptop to do something work related. My mind is constantly ticking with the next idea, project or location for an Instagram post and it’s suddenly occurred to me that things are getting a little out of hand.
The term workaholic is used in such a negative light, heck, I have ALWAYS used it in such a way.
Those people who are “married to their jobs”, those who have no lives, those who’d do anything to make it to the top and those who would put work before anything else.
Whilst I’m not quite up to those stereotypical standards my whole thought process on being a workaholic has changed of late.
Late last year my career was upped a notch or two and for that I will forever be totally grateful. But I have to say it’s taken me until now to acknowledge just how things have changed and in-turn affected my life and the life of those around me.
Both George and I had a change in our careers around the same time last year which meant that our daily routine was thrown askew and we didn’t spend half as much time with one another as we had done since day one of our relationship.
Whilst it was difficult for a few months, we worked through it and sorted it out and are now happier than ever.
However George’s late nights in the bar mean I’m on my own for the majority of the evening and filling the nights alone staring into my laptop, writing lists on my phone or scrolling Instagram and Pinterest for style and location inspiration, it’s relentless.
It’s not doing my mind, my eyes, not to mention my poor old back any good AND my teeth come to think of it…
I’ve developed this really weird habit of pushing my tongue into my teeth when I concentrate, I think braces will be on the cards next year… Yay?! Back and teeth issues have each been a result of the shift in my workload which of course is not good one bit, however I have to say, I’m really rather loving working… Yes, my name is Megan and I’m a workaholic.
Whilst just last year I’d stop working at 6pm on the dot, ‘cause why should everyone else finish at that time and not me hey? And whilst this may sound slack to some, it’s been the mentality I’ve had for the past two years of blogging since going at it full time and it’s served me pretty damn well indeed.
However, as the workload has piled up and the time alone in the evenings has increased (something I now rather enjoy) I’m finding it increasingly hard to pull myself away from my laptop, even when I’m having my much loved and much look forward to bubble bath at the end of the day, I still dive in with the laptop propped up on the loo to catch up on my fave YouTubers… Does it ever stop?
I guess that’s just life.
When things get turned upside down you learn to adapt and by adapt, in my case, it just means work more and relax less. Whilst past Megan would be thinking “Oh hell no gurrrrl” I’m really rather enjoying being totally in love with my work. I love creating content, I love researching and I love all things fashion and styling and adore this beautiful community that we have here. If it means loosing a little sleep here and there in order to keep up with the workload and the constant pressure I put on myself to develop then so be it.
I just need to learn when it’s time to stop, to take a step away from my laptop, to learn when to stop talking about it to anyone who will listen (sorry mum) and when control the itch to get my camera out for that oh-so instagrammable (Man I hate that word) OOTD.
I also need to stop feeling oh so guilty when I eventually do stop working.
Now don’t get me wrong I love crawling into bed as much as the next kid and I KILL for guilt free lie in’s, however when my weekday plans involve socialising I’m met with this crippling guilt that I should be working. My lovely team at Gleam are forever telling me that it’s okay to take days out and my mum has ALWAYS championed how wonderful being self employed at 24 is and that I should cherish this lifestyle while I can… In turn, take the bloody day off to go drinking for your Nanna’s 80th birthday guilt free, for example.
But I simply can’t help but feel guilty for not replying to emails instantly, for not scheduling that blogpost or filming that video that I’ve been putting off, it really is ridiculous, I’m not exactly saving lives here!
But what grinds my gears about myself even more is how I feel guilty even when I’m out shooting or filming FOR MY JOB! I feel the guilt for not being at my laptop and actually creating the content… I mean WHAT!? I’ve been out all day styling and shooting yet I still feel the guilt that I’ve been away from my laptop not replying, writing or editing, bizarre ey!?
Bizarre yes, but it’s teaching me that my momma is right about one (thousands of) thing(s), I need to cherish this lifestyle the way I used to, it’s all well and good being busier and more passionate about my career than ever, but this could all change tomorrow, and I’d hate to regret not doing something in favour of tapping away at my laptop AMIRITE!?
I guess it’s all learning, and at twenty four I guess I’m doing alright.
Whilst I’ll never be restricted and regimented with my content, I’m more cautious and curated than ever before and I really hope you’ve noticed the difference. I’m enjoying working from 830am-10pm some days and thats okay, but I must stop being so hard on myself when those days don’t happen, there’s always tomorrow. To say I now struggle to relax is a problem and a problem I’d like to work out pretty soon through balance, it’s all about balance, but until then, my misconceptions of the term workaholic have been cast aside and I’ve realised being a workaholic ain’t so bad…