Its been nine days since I left Tikkun. Unwinding has not been easy. As I imagined, there would be email and calls to answer, and loose ends to help the accountant and staff sew up. I'd wager that at least three days were devoted to helping the office out, which is actually less time than I anticipated would be the case. Having spent six weeks at the office after resigning on November 22nd, I dedicated myself to wrapping up as much as humanly possible. I'm sure that there will be more calls and emails in the future. But for now, until the magazine hires a new managing editor, its my assumption that my major post-Tikkun work is complete.
Every time I find myself growing impatient with my inability to get going on my next projects faster - a book, a record and two essays - I always look back at my "To Do" list for December to remind myself of why I'm so damn beat. (That does not include the fatigue accumulated from having worked six days a week for two and a half years.) Ranging from IT, distribution and general business tasks to editorial planning, writing, updating the website and employee training, the six week period during which I undertook my concluding work sums up everything that made my former job so draining. I'm really grateful for the experience, but I'm also extremely relieved to be moving on.
The best part about being home is how comfortable it is to write in. Ever since we moved into our new house in San Francisco's Bernal Heights neighborhood two years ago, unfortunately, given my work schedule, I've had a devil of a time finding any real occasion to spend time here. Every weekday morning, when I'd get up to make coffee before work, I'd stare into my beautiful office, wondering whether I'd ever get a chance to enjoy the space and take advantage of what it ideally could afford me. Lined with books and vinyl LPs, and a large desk bearing my home studio set-up, sitting in my decrepit Berkeley office, I'd frequently find myself daydreaming about importing old records bought at foreign flea markets into my rapidly aging computer.
Now that I'm truly here, I can't say enough good things about it. The sun shines through my window for the better part of the day, giving my room some of the best light of any spot in the house. Sitting in my father's old office chair, typing away while my favorite BBC shows stream through my Mac and my two dogs chill on the floor beside me, I can't quite recall a time that I felt so at home. Really, anywhere. Though this definitely will not last forever - essentially five months from today - it feels like I won the lottery. And I don't feel the least bit guilty about this opportunity either.
As much as this all might seem like its about finally doing what one really wants to do, that's not quite it. It's about having a decent quality of life, and the time to take care of the kinds of things that we ignore, delay, or put off when we work sixty hours a week. Like spending time with one's family, paying bills promptly, returning phone calls from friends (the same day, as opposed to two weeks later), and doing laundry. And, most importantly, cooking dinner for my wife. Seeing the smile on Jennifer's face as she sat down to a freshly-grilled flank steak last night summed up exactly why this was one of the best decisions I've ever made. All I can say in response is "Sweetie, there's a lot more meat where that came from."