The 0, 4, and 100 hour work week

I read Tim Ferriss (all of his books) the last couple of months at my old job. I liked a lot of his concepts—some in line with practices I was already doing, others I knew I wanted to test for myself, and some that I was more inclined to disagree with. After some head scratching, I realized that I disagreed with the fundamental premise of the four hour work week.

As others have mentioned, aspiring to a four hour work week means that you dislike what you’re working on. It’s something to be automated so that you can make money, but not something you’re truly passionate about. Among those who share this view, Jonathan Mead advocates a zero hour work week, i.e., getting paid to do what you love. Well, I love my startup idea. I’m passionate about the mission, vision, potential, the whole shebang. But I’m here to say, that still, boundaries need to be set.

In January 2014, I worked a lot (because I was a bit panicked and manic about getting users). When people worked their 9-6, I worked. When people wound down in the evenings with an episode of Breaking Bad or a glass of wine, I worked. When people went to the park on a sunny Saturday, I worked. If I was invited over for a drink or to the park, I certainly went. But other than that, I just worked. My hobby was my work and so I never felt the need to do anything else. I probably worked 80-100 hours a week, though I never kept track.

Two weeks into this routine, I started having problems sleeping. I stayed up until 5am, mind racing through a hundred thousand different ways to get users, to style the website, and get funded. I woke up wondering if I’d ever fallen asleep. I felt energized and exhausted every day. Then I tweaked a muscle, or something (I never found out what). Suddenly I couldn’t tilt my head in any direction but forward. My upper back was in constant pain—the kind where you feel like you just want a truck to drive over you.

I realized that even though mentally, I was working a zero hour work week, physically, I felt the impact of 80-100 hours. I learned the hard way that even if love your work to the point that it doesn’t feel like it, your body will always know the difference.

Now, I’ve learned to set limits. I still don’t keep track of hours, and pretty much work whenever I’m not doing something else. But I’ve learned to set limits (e.g., no work an hour before sleep) and give myself a break when I have the occasional unproductive day. I can’t do everything, moreover I can’t afford to burn out, and I’m starting to understand.

This blarticle was written in the context of building a product that helps people borrow occasional-use items (e.g., sleeping bags, electric drills) from their friends & neighbors. Check out the prototype here.