So alright, the mid-morning nap. On a workday. I’m not trying to sound boastful about napping while I’m working from home, or being paid to work but napping, which feels actually foreign and not altogether good. But then the meta layers where you feel bad about feeling bad doing it when you should be feeling good, that’s the point of a nap.

So why are you napping when you should be working? In the den where the morning light is best by the picture window with the cat and dog? When your wife is busting her ass and actually working from home?

Because I’m like a for-hire driver waiting in the driveway for the paying client who isn’t ready to leave. And it’s been weeks of waiting. The driver doesn’t wait for free because they could be driving other clients. So it’s frustrating and wasteful but there’s not much I can do about it so I nap. I nap out of boredom because I can. I nap because after being around pets who do little else you start thinking maybe you should too. The dog is elderly, like six thousand in human years. The cat is a teenager. So opposite ends of the nap spectrum but both professional nappers. The cat riding side saddle on the top of the sofa where the sun hits. The dog half-dead sometimes whimpering in a dream. It’s half-past 10 on a Friday and I figure fuck it I’m napping too. I keep my phone by me but when it buzzes it’s always something else. Or if it’s my client I snap to like an automaton and run upstairs to the computer but then there’s nothing else to do again for hours.

This week I spent half a day pressure washing our patio, another day weeding, yesterday breaking sticks for the yard waste removal. The weather has been stunning. But it’s a workweek and I billed 40 hours, maybe worked 10. There was a time early in my consulting years I’d give hours back—meaning I wouldn’t claim as many as I was given. I’d say “you can have it back.” I did that to the agency but they were just going to bill the client that same amount anyway so I was only helping their profit margin. Who does that? I feel embarrassed writing this. Never again. I bill it all.

Yesterday a guy on my team said it sounds like you are walking a tightrope with your projects and client. It sounds like you might need some help. We have shadow bandwidth if you do. “Shadow bandwidth” is code for resource help that’s under the radar, meaning you’ve got dibs on it if you need it. Someone actually reached out to me asking can I help you? I have nothing to do but nap I wanted to say. Get me a blanket. But instead I politely declined and said maybe next week.

Categories: Corporate America, Creative Nonfiction, Humor

Tags: Creative Nonfiction, humor, journal writing, work-life balance