The Happy Medium

Most of my adult life has been at King of Pops. And for that reason, most Labor Days I labor.

That is the nature of a business built on gatherings … you work when the gatherings are happening.

Not this year. I left the pop slinging to the very capable team (who hit a homerun at DragonCon) and went to the lake with friends and kids.

Maximizing pop yields and strategizing cart locations turned into boat runs, s’mores, and staying sunscreened.

The biggest decision each night was whether to have one more drink or get one extra hour of sleep. Both were the right answer.

Since the pandemic, I’ve been thinking a lot about work — and how it can be part of a good life. I wrote a book about it, and maybe that, or maybe simply being well into mid-life, has made me more committed than ever to a healthy, sustainable balance.

I used to log 70+-hour weeks in season and almost nothing in the winter. My brother and I ran that way because there didn’t seem to be another option. The seasonal rhythm of the popsicle business worked, though: I sustained a solid decade of loving work. That’s a feat most can’t claim.

But life has changed. I don’t want to miss 30 hours a week of the after-5 p.m. and weekend moments. So I’ve downshifted to the standard 40ish-hour workweek.

There’s a reason people say a “happy medium.” It’s hard to explain, probably doesn’t translate well, but it makes sense. Balance is key. Do too much or too little, and you’ll probably be unhappy.

In my book, Work Is Fun (currently on sale for $17 at Amazon 😉), I put it this way:

“On a normal Monday, when I’m about to drop my daughter off at preschool, part of me wants to skip drop-off and head to the zoo or doughnut shop with her instead to spend more time together. In much the same way, when I’m at work, as the evening approaches and I inevitably haven’t finished everything I’d hoped to get to, part of me wants to stick around and get more done. In both instances I’m having fun, and I want to extend the current moment. At the same time, I’m looking forward to the next thing. These are the days when everything is going right.”

My Labor Day takeaway builds on that. It isn’t just about days. Sometimes our brains need a hard reset, and rebooting takes more than eight hours of sleep.

Step away while there’s still something left in the tank. Close your laptop still curious. Drive away from the lake still wanting one more ski run.

That’s not compromise. That’s the signal you’re doing things right.