I’ve never really thought that two days of working on your own needs and passions for every five spent working for someone else is a very great deal. As I get older, I seem to feel this more strongly. Maybe it’s because we made better use of our weeknights when we were younger, maybe it’s this phase of life… because I feel like the amount of responsibilities are likely near peak now, and should begin declining as the kids start to peel away.
Whatever it is, I’ve got a garden that needs to be ripped-up and re-planted; I need to change the oil in the RV, as well as remove and disassemble its furnace to clean out some mud dauber nests; I’ve got a gutter out back that’s not level and needs to be fixed; all manner of touch-up painting needing attention; the grass in Florida grows so fast you can hear it so that’s calling every Saturday; on and on it goes.
I guess this is the balance everyone does, I know. But two-of-five days, 30% of my week, for me, to get my shit done, feels too little. Even with my coastFIRE phase-two career change I feel this way. And yeah, blah-blah-blah I know I’m/we’re supremely rich and free and spoiled on a global scale, and yeah that makes me hear this whole thing as pointless complaining from an already fat and happy king.
Ruined it. Started out OK. Peace.