I want you to think about something for a second.
When was the last time you did absolutely nothing productive?
Not when you went on vacation but still checked your work email.
Not when you had an unexpected 15 minutes between meetings.
Not when you finished everything early and decided to sit down for a few minutes before finding something else that needed to be done.
I mean actual free time.
Time where you weren't working, weren't thinking about working, weren't preparing to work, and weren't sitting there feeling guilty because there was probably something more "meaningful" you could be doing.
If you genuinely have to stop and think about the answer, this blog is probably for you.
And before anyone misunderstands what I'm saying here, I'm not against working hard.
I'm not against having a career that you're proud of.
If you've spent years getting degrees, earning certifications, winning awards, climbing the ladder, building a business, or becoming successful in your field, that's fantastic.
You should absolutely be proud of what you've accomplished.
But I have one question:
When do you actually get to enjoy it?
Because at some point, the farmer has to eat the food he's been growing.
Think about it.
A farmer can spend all day planting, watering, tending the field, pulling weeds, fixing equipment, harvesting crops, and preparing for tomorrow.
And when he's finished, I'm sure he could look around and find another hundred things that could still be done.
But eventually, he has to put the tools down.
Eventually, he has to sit on the porch.
Eventually, he has to eat.
Otherwise, what exactly was he growing all of that food for?
And I think some of us have forgotten that part when it comes to work.
We spend so much time building careers, making money, earning benefits and preparing for some hypothetical future where we're finally going to enjoy everything we've worked for that we forget we're supposed to be enjoying some of it now.
I'm especially talking to the people who don't know what to do with themselves when there's no work to be done.
You know exactly who you are.
Your calendar says:
1:00 PM - 3:00 PM: FREE TIME
And somehow you've managed to turn free time into another appointment.
Then 1:00 comes around and instead of relaxing, you're stressed because you don't know what you're supposed to do with those two hours.
"Maybe I should answer some emails."
"I could get ahead on that project."
"There's probably something productive I could be doing."
"I don't want to waste the afternoon."
If that's you, I'm begging you:
Waste the afternoon.
Seriously.
Watch a terrible movie.
Play a video game.
Go for a drive.
Sit outside.
Take a nap.
Call a friend.
Go bowling.
Stare at the ceiling for twenty minutes.
I don't care.
Not every second of every day has to produce something.
You are a human being, not a factory.
And I think we've gotten ourselves into this weird mindset where "productive" and "meaningful" have somehow become synonyms.
They're not.
Time doesn't have to produce something to have value.
Spending an afternoon laughing with your friends might accomplish absolutely nothing from a productivity standpoint, but I would have a very difficult time calling that afternoon meaningless.
Those are the afternoons that money can't buy.
And these shouldn't be rare events, either.
If I ask you when you last had some genuine free time and your answer is something like:
"Well, three weeks ago I took an extra fifteen minutes after lunch..."
No.
That doesn't count.
That's a rounding error.
Free time shouldn't be some historical event that you have to search your memory for.
If you have to constantly remember to schedule "free time", then your schedule is too full.
There's nothing wrong with planning activities during your free time.
In fact, I recommend it.
Plan the vacation.
Buy the concert tickets.
Schedule the tee time.
Make dinner reservations.
Get tickets to the game.
But there's a huge difference between scheduling what you're doing during your free time and having to schedule the existence of free time itself.
And there's an even bigger problem if, once that free time arrives, you can't enjoy it because you feel guilty that you're not working.
At that point, I think it's worth asking yourself a much bigger question:
Do I have a life outside of my work?
Because your job can absolutely give you purpose.
It can be part of your identity.
It can be something you're genuinely passionate about.
But it shouldn't be your entire reason for existing.
You shouldn't be "bringing the work laptop just in case" on the family trip this year.
Keep the work laptop at home, turn the work phone off, leave an automatic "out of office" reply for your work e-mail, and fully enjoy your life for once.
I actually have a perfect example from my own life.
As I'm writing this, I'm going into work later today for four hours of overtime.
By choice.
So apparently I've decided to write an entire blog telling people to stop working so much on the same day I'm voluntarily going to work.
Great timing.
But here's the important part:
I'm not doing those four hours because I can't stand having the day to myself.
I'm doing them because I'm taking the overtime as comp time.
I have a vacation coming up in October, and because I took some additional time off earlier this year, I'm currently about 11 hours short of what I'll need to take the entire vacation I already planned.
So I'm working four extra hours today specifically so I can not work later.
That's the entire point.
I'm giving up four hours today because those four hours are buying me four hours of my vacation back.
Between now and October, I'll make up the rest of the hours that I'm currently short, and keep my whole vacation.
The work is serving my life.
My life isn't serving the work.
And that's a distinction I think is incredibly important.
Sometimes working extra makes perfect sense.
Work the overtime because you're saving for a vacation.
Pick up an extra shift because you're trying to pay something off.
Spend a few difficult years getting the degree that's going to open doors for you.
Put in some extra hours because you're building toward something you genuinely want.
There's nothing wrong with temporarily sacrificing some free time for a purpose.
But there eventually has to be a later.
You can't spend your entire life preparing to eventually enjoy your life.
I see this with annual leave at work all the time.
I have coworkers who end up in "use or lose" territory at the end of the year.
They've accumulated so much annual leave that if they don't use some of it before the year ends, they're going to lose it.
And some of them actually do.
They just let the hours expire.
I cannot comprehend this.
You're telling me that my employer is giving me a choice between:
A: Come to work and get paid.
or
B: Stay home and get paid.
And if I don't pick B soon enough, B disappears forever?
I'M PICKING B.
Every single time.
That's free money to not be at work!
Having been at my current job for 18 years, I'm now at the point where I accumulate a nice chunk of time off.
I'm fortunate enough to be able to take four vacations a year.
Basically one every three months. January, April, July, and October.
That is by design.
I spread it out that way so that every quarter, I know I'm going to have extended time off away from work, where I can fully decompress for at least 9 straight days.
I don't feel guilty about that.
That's what my annual leave is for.
I earned it.
It's part of my compensation.
I could technically take longer vacations, but then I wouldn't have them every three months.
The key for me is spreading it out.
That's how I stay sane.
But here's the thing about my annual leave balance.
The number sitting in my leave balance isn't the benefit.
Using it is the benefit.
Having a random Tuesday morning where my coworkers are getting ready for work and I'm still asleep is the benefit.
Going somewhere is the benefit.
Spending time with friends and family is the benefit.
Not having to set an alarm for an entire week is the benefit.
Having an entire day where my biggest concern is figuring out what I want for lunch is the benefit.
Having hundreds of hours of leave sitting on a pay statement that I'm apparently never going to use doesn't impress me.
And letting those hours expire because I was too busy working to use my paid time away from work?
Absolutely not.
Imagine our farmer again.
He spends all year growing food.
His pantry is overflowing.
He has more food than he can possibly store.
At the end of the year, anything he hasn't eaten is going to be thrown away.
So you tell him:
"Why don't you eat some of it?"
And he responds:
"I don't have time. I'm too busy farming."
That's insane.
Eat the food.
Because there's another resource involved in all of this that doesn't accumulate.
Time.
There will always be another email.
There will always be another project.
There will always be another shift you can pick up.
There will always be another meeting, another deadline, another opportunity to get ahead, another certification you can earn, another dollar you can make and another thing that needs to be done.
Work is renewable.
Your time isn't.
Once today is gone, it's gone.
You can make more money tomorrow.
You cannot make another August 7, 2026.
And this becomes especially important when you listen to people who have spent time around those approaching the end of their lives.
Palliative and end-of-life care workers have written about hearing people regret how much of their lives they gave to work and how they wished they'd spent more of that time with the people they loved.
I think that's worth paying attention to.
Very few people reach the end of their lives wishing they'd answered a few more emails.
They're not lying there thinking:
"If only I'd picked up that Saturday shift in 1997."
"I really should've attended more meetings."
"I can't believe I wasted all those afternoons hanging out with my kids."
No.
They want more time.
Another conversation.
Another vacation.
Another birthday.
Another afternoon with their friends.
Another completely pointless Tuesday where absolutely nothing important happened.
And unfortunately, by the time you realize how valuable those moments were, you can't buy them back.
So work hard.
Build the career.
Earn the degree.
Get the promotion.
Win the awards.
Make the money.
Be proud of what you've built.
Plant the crops.
Water them.
Pull the weeds.
Tend the field.
Grow something incredible.
Just remember why you're doing all of it.
Because eventually, you need to put the tools down.
Eventually, you need to sit on the porch.
And while you're still here to enjoy it:
Don't forget to eat what you grew.
