So lately I've been thinking about leisure. Mostly, my thinking goes like this: Mmmm, this couch is so absurdly comfortable. I freaking LOVE sitting on the couch. Next year -- and by "next year" I mean two weeks from now -- I won't be able to sit on the couch like I do now. Which is a serious drag, because this past year, I have turned couch-sitting into high art. I've had more leisure time this year than any other year in recent memory. It has been absolutely luscious. I have luxuriated in my endless afternoons. I have reveled in my free evenings. Golden weekends, every weekend.
I've always thought I prefer to be busy. Productive! But this year I've been more or less a part-time researcher because I wanted to seize the opportunity to spend significant time with my son before residency. I expected to love the time with Sam: taking walks around our neighborhood, playing at the park, lingering at the library. But what I didn't expect, exactly, was how exqusitely I love doing ... not much at all. Turns out free time is habit-forming and I'm hooked. Today, for instance, I woke up with Sam, around 7 AM. We took our sweet time getting dressed and eating our oatmeal. We listened to the news on the radio and made the beds together. During the late morning, we ran a few errands. At Target, we browsed the aisles, just waiting for something to catch our fancy. I bought a new dress, jeweled sandals. An orange rash guard for Sam. We dallied at the grocery store, then back home for lunch. I intended to work on my abstract submission for ASN during Sam's midday nap, but instead, I curled up on the couch and read a novel. In the afternoon, Sam and I walked to midtown for a few more groceries and an iced coffee. After dinner, Brian and I ate ice cream and watched Benjamin Button. It was a perfectly delicious day.
Recently I asked some friends, both academics, what's the optimal number of leisure hours per week? One of them counted the bulk of his working day as leisure, because he loves his job so much. Lucky him! I like my work well enough, but I definitely don't consider running around the hospital "leisure"! The other friend came up with a number: 30. That sounds reasonable to me.
Maybe a better way to pose the question is this: how many hours each week do I want to work? Based on how happy I've been this year, how balanced I've felt, I'd say the ideal number for me is somewhere between 30 and 40. I'd love to work 30 hours a week forever, but I'd be willing to work more like 40-50 under the following conditions: 1. One full weekday per week free, 2. Home for dinner most nights, 3. Off most weekends. I think a schedule that adhered to those requirements would result in an adequate amount of couch-sitting.
This kind of analysis is relevant for me because in the near future I need to begin to make professional choices that will result in more or less leisure, and I want to think the decision through carefully. So I'm interested to know how other people think about this question: what's your dream schedule? How much couch time do you need? How much do you want?
Well, I've been a resident for four days now, and so far, it's been a breeze. I started on geriatrics, which is a soft landing to say the least. All outpatient, no real call, Fridays and weekends off. On my very first day as a doctor, I saw a total of two patients, both in erectile dysfunction clinic. (Oh, the jokes. So many jokes.) In an odd example of life imitating my nightmares, both patients asked me how long I've been a doctor. I figured, they had already opened up to me about much more intimate matters. Plus, they weren't wearing pants. So, I came clean: "Today's my first day!" Juuuuust what they wanted to hear.
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