Tag work-life balance

trouble and strife – the reality of living and working together

caroline hughes Leave a comment

I’m staying at The Mack’s this month, before we head off to South America.  We just about survived the moving in of my stuff.  Mainly thanks to The Mack getting rid of 95% of his possessions to make space for the 10% of mine that I carefully calculated I could hide about his place and get away with.  That and his vow of silence.

It’s been a week so far and, put it this way, I’m pretty sure that The Mack cannot wait for our 3 week trip, just the two of us.  On the strength of my performance so far, I think we can safely say I’m not in the running for Girlfriend of the Year 2013.

the taming of the shrew

Now some lesser men might have taken the view that, if you give houseroom to an unpredictable, highly-strung creature with a history of fiery outbursts, you should probably try to maintain a calm, stable home environment.  And avoid anything that is likely to rile the beast.

Not The Mack.  His view is that if he is kind enough to give houseroom to said creature, then it gives him free rein to wind it up. stand back – taser in hand – and watch it run itself into exhaustion.

I’m starting to suspect that he’s using this as some sort of social experiment.  He knows I know I’ve got nowhere else to go…

I hate you so much right now

Two things I really don’t like.  The whole start-up over-exuberance and slavish adherence to made-up methodologies.  And anyone checking up on me.

So The Mack has kindly decided to combine both of these in what has proven to be a foolproof system of destruction of will.

There are too many things that make me mad to list them all here, but I’ll give you the highlights (and don’t worry, I’ve got the others safely filed away in my brain under “things to bring up in our next big public argument”):

– his enthusiasm for our business ideas and general upbeat attitude vs my rightly-held belief that everything we’re doing is a pile of crap and an utterly pointless big fat waste of time.Post its

– making me write tasks on post-its, which we stick on the wall for each of our projects.  Colour-coded for the different types of tasks (concept/content, technical, marketing).  Ranked in order of priority.  Allocated to one of us to action.  “Action”.  Oh dear lord.

– his insistence on having “team” meetings every morning where we update one another on progress.  It’s an interrogation, people.  The man is never satisfied with my answers.  And I’m realising I’m quite a defensive person.

– scheduling our time each day “cos it’s the only way things get done”.  2 hours on my project, 1 on his, 30 minutes on planning our trip, 1 hour off for lunch where we watch either an episode of Girls or Modern Family (there are no other options, soldier).

– using an egg-timer app to make sure we stick to the schedule.

– endlessly using the phrases “engaging the pre-frontal cortex”, “synapses”, “gamification” and “what’s for lunch, babe?”.

work-life balance

I know, I know, you’re wondering how it is that I’ve managed not to crack under this inhumane regime.  Well, I’ve developed a few strategies for dealing with this toxic environment.  They include:

– crying.

– talking in a really shrill, harpy-like voice.

– sulking.

– cursing (both like a navvy and like a witch-doctor).

– taking myself off for a late night walk through dodgy estates in South London (there’s nothing like fear of personal attack to make you want to come back “home”).

– watching Rambo I and II.

The worst bit about it all is that I know that The Mack has a point.  We need to start making some money fast, and getting on with our projects is the only way that’s going to happen.

Doesn’t stop me wanting to stab him repeatedly with a fork every time we break for lunch though…

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PS:  I’d be really grateful if my UK readers could take 5 mins to fill out an online survey for a new business venture I’m working on to do with friends and communities.  Please go to www.beneighbourly.com.  Thank you!!

the art of esc-apology

caroline hughes Leave a comment

3 signs that you’re ready to escape your city job:

  1. your anxiety dreams always involve a lot of corridors, large rodents and only being able to run backwards in slo-mo
  2. you quiz the servers in Starbucks or Waitrose on their hours, pay and general job satisfaction
  3. your pee is hazchem yellow, courtesy of Berocca, but you’re still ill every time you take holiday

I knew I wanted out pretty much from the in.  Sure, I was seduced by the free Monday night bar, the mid-week softball games and power dressing.  But that stuff wears off.

Maths was one of my strong subjects and it didn’t take me long to figure out that:

Then you realise:

Are they hiring us for our brains or gullibility?  But don’t worry, it all makes sense because of the career satisfaction and the quality work and the job security.  Oh wait……

my escape route  

Ok, so I’m still feeling my way through this business lark and I can’t claim any financial success yet (give me a break, it’s only been 2 months and I spent most of that time partying in Ibiza and watching the Olympics…).

But here’s how I did it and some tips if you want to come join this brave new world.

  • Big firm pedigree:  I started my career at a big, prestigious firm.  That tells people that I must be incredibly smart, well trained in my specialism and know how to be professional.  Which helps my credibility nowadays when I turn up for client meetings in denim shorts and floral trainers.
  • Small firm experience: I never ultimately wanted to work for major banks or corporates.  My target client base was fashion designers and other creatives.  So I downsized after 3 years to a firm with these types of clients.  The benefits: massively increased client contact and autonomy and no real salary drop once you factor in tax.
  • Industry expertise: I wanted to be in business, but not in the business of providing legal services to lots of clients.  So I stepped sideways with a twist.  I went to work for a fashion comms agency in a hybrid legal/commercial role.
    • I set up a new company division doing licensing deals for fashion designers/celebs using the commercial experience (deal structure, royalty rates etc.) gained from doing exactly that whilst in my small firm; and
    • I was global legal counsel for the company, which meant that I was intimately involved with the running of the business and helped the founders with their decision-making.  That meant I got to practise business skills with someone else’s money and reputation.
  • Financial independence: I saved some money to cash-flow me for a set period of time without a salary whilst I’m starting up my business.  Let’s face it, when you’re working all hours, you don’t have time to spend it, so that bit should be relatively easy.  If it’s not, then you need to take a good, hard look at your ridiculously frivolous lifestyle and trim the fat.  Gents, ditch the gadget addiction.  Ladies, stop kidding yourselves that shopping is a legitimate hobby.
  • Safety in numbers: Before I quit, I spoke to loads of people who don’t have a conventional office-based working life, to find out how they cope.  Weirdly, practically all the new people I’ve met since I decided to escape the slog are part-timers, freelancers, semi-retired, remote-workers and business jugglers.  The fact that none of them are living on the bread line and all seem to be enjoying quite a nice lifestyle, thank you very much, encouraged me to join their ranks.

There are lots of resources/communities online for non-traditional working lifestyles.  Check out Escape the City for information and inspiration.

  • Tell everyone: There’s nothing like announcing your plan to quit to actually force you to do it.  So tell your friends, your family, your colleagues, your bosses (that last one kinda counts as no going back).  I gave my employers 6 months’ notice.  It gave them time to figure out how to replace me.  It gave me time to get used to the idea of not working and to plan for it.  It meant that I left on great terms with everyone and with a lot of people wanting me to succeed and who can possibly help me in my business down the line.

And that was it.  I left my job with nothing to move on to.  It felt like the right time for me to do my own thing and give freedom a whirl.

And in the words of Dumb and Dumber: “I like it. I like it a lot.”