I dislike working weekends.
I love publishing on Medium, reading people’s work, and working in general, but on the weekends, that love goes into hibernation.
I write every day, no matter what, but everything else becomes kind of a drag.
I don’t want to edit submissions to my publication or even post on Twitter. All I want to do is read, watch whatever show I don’t let myself watch during the week, and hang out with my family without worrying about work.
Hustlers and hard workers aren’t supposed to take Saturday and Sunday off — or so they say. You’re supposed to work every single day if you want to be successful.
I’d like to say I feel guilty because I don’t follow those rules, but I don’t. I feel more guilty about the fact that I don’t feel guilty. (I promise to stop saying ‘guilty’ for the rest of this piece.)
Here’s the thing: I know that not working weekends is kind of stupid. While some other writer is working their ass off on a Saturday night, I’m not.
Perhaps they’ll reach success faster because of it, but I don’t care.
I know the consequences of my actions, but I decided a while ago that my life wouldn’t only be about work.
For me, right now, not working on the weekends isn’t a bad thing.
I put in the work during the week
Something strange happens to me on Monday morning, when that alarm rings at seven.
I am on it.
My little brother doesn’t like me on the weekdays because when he asks if I want to play Mario with him, he already knows the answer is going to be no.
I don’t like wasting time during the week.
If I’m putting together the Letter for my publication, I’m also listening to a podcast.
If I’m on YouTube, it’s because I’m watching videos about something I’m struggling with on writing.
Hell, I even read Medium articles on the dentist’s chair while I wait for her.
I pack my to-do list with as many things as I can, tackle the tasks one by one, and whatever is left, I’ll do it tomorrow.
That’s my schedule every day, Monday through Friday, from seven to eight. (Although, I work on my fiction after eight.)
If you want to take the weekend off, work so you feel like you deserve the break.
Be the most badass person you can be during the week, and when Saturday rolls around, enjoy your life outside of work.
How successful do you want to be?
If Gary Vaynerchuk says you should work just as hard on the weekend as you did during the week, and you want to be like Gary Vee, then you better listen to him.
If you want to be a millionaire and own two homes and a jet, and all that stuff, then you bet your ass you have to work weekends.
In high school, I wanted to be a millionaire. At fifteen, I said I’d be one by twenty-two because that seemed light-years away.
(If you’re wondering where I’m at in my life, let’s just say that I’m turning twenty-two next month, and I got excited for earning $200 last month on Medium.)
Anyway, we see the grand lives of people like Grant Cardone have, and we automatically think, “I want to be like that.”
But do you really?
It took me a while to realize I couldn’t care less about any of it. Don’t get me wrong — this bitch wants to be rich.
But everyone’s so obsessed with making a million dollars that we’ve forgotten that $500,000, $300,000, and even $100,000 is a fuckton of money, especially when you don’t have a family.
I want to aim for greatness, but I don’t care to be the best. I’ll always give my all, work as hard as I can, and whatnot, but sometimes, the highest results don’t matter.
What’s more important is that you do something you love and work hard to get better because you want to get better. Kick ass, and see what happens from there.
At this moment, I don’t want to work on the weekends. I will never not write, but everything else can be put on hold.
I’m okay with that. I know who I am and what I want right now, and that’s what matters.
Can you say the same?