I handed in my laptop on Friday. By Monday, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

The Guilt Phase

For the first three days, I felt guilty doing anything that wasn’t “productive.” Reading a book at 2pm? Wasteful. Going for a walk without a podcast? Inefficient.

A decade of optimizing for output doesn’t switch off just because you changed your LinkedIn status.

What I Actually Did

• Slept until I woke up naturally (turns out that’s 7:30am, not 6:00am)
• Cooked lunch instead of eating at my desk
• Went to a coffee shop without my laptop
• Stared at the ceiling for an embarrassingly long time

The Unexpected Anxiety

I expected to feel free. Instead, I felt adrift. Without standups and deadlines, time becomes formless. Hours blend together. “What day is it?” becomes a genuine question.

My identity had been so wrapped up in work that removing it felt like removing a load-bearing wall. Still standing, but something’s structurally off.

Finding a Rhythm

By day five, I started building structure back in. Not a schedule exactly—more like anchors:

• Morning: Coffee and reading (no screens)
• Midday: Move my body somehow
• Afternoon: One creative project
• Evening: Dinner with my wife, no exceptions

What’s Next

I’m giving myself permission to not know. For the first time in my career, I don’t have a plan. No side projects waiting to become startups. No skills I’m urgently trying to acquire.

Just time. Let’s see what grows in it.