I’m lucky enough to have one of those 40-hour/week jobs with benefits and coworkers that don’t suck and an office with a view. It’s what I’ve always referred to as a Big Kid Job.
Rather than the standard 8a-5p work day, our office recently implemented an alternative way to distribute those 40 hours hours during the week. Monday-Thursday we now work 9 hours and on Friday work we now only work four, closing at noon. I had mixed feelings about this at first, because of those longer days. But having been on this schedule for two weeks now, I reached my verdict.
Monday. Monday is Monday. Always spent catching up on missed calls and emails from the weekend, putting out any fires that perhaps befell our clients, and milling around getting updates on everyone’s weekend.
Tuesday. Usually still trying to catch up from stuff missed over the weekend. But now, it feels more like Wednesday than Tuesday…
Wednesday. The week is more than half over! It’s basically Friday-eve!
Thursday. Well Friday doesn’t feel like a real day anymore, so today is basically our last day to get shit done. Scramble for weekend preparation!
Friday. Did someone make two carafes of coffee? We don’t have time to drink all that. People start saying goodbye at noon and all the managers proceed to wander around aimlessly, confused and unsure what to do with themselves.
First, the longer days. When we closed at 5p, I often found myself obsessively checking the clock and trying to ditch out by 4:50. For reasons I don’t quite understand, now that we close at 5:30p I find myself less concerned about the time and actually staying late instead. Can someone explain that 30-minute dissonance to me and my brain?
The extra half-hour of the day results from taking 30 minutes for lunch rather than a full hour. Everyone was a bit distressed about this one. What the hell can you even accomplish in half an hour? Turns out, there are lots of food places nearby that take call-ahead orders and we’ve been utilizing the shit out of those services. We have a full fucking kitchen in our office, so you’d think that more people would whip up lunch items right there, but no. That kitchen is only used for making cookies (and that one time the new lady showed up at 7am to make blueberry muffins from scratch). Anyway, now I just close my office door and read for half an hour, which is way more relaxing than I would have previously given it credit for.
And then there’s Friday. Beautiful, casually short Friday. Leaving work at noon means that I can go grocery shopping, do my laundry, and take a nap all before the weekend even arrives. My adulting is successfully completed during the week, and I can now spend my weekends loafing around, being a slug, and not leaving the house for anything but beer. And that makes this new schedule the bee’s knees.