Adrian Chiles on Rediscovering the Joy of Work and Loving Mondays
For years, I never understood the dread many feel towards Mondays. In my early career, work was a thrilling escape, not a burden. But life has a way of teaching hard lessons, and I didn't realise how much I needed work until I lost it. Now, after a tumultuous journey, I've learned to love Mondays again, finding a perfect balance between labour and leisure.
The Early Years: From School Uniforms to Scaffolding
School Mondays were a particular kind of misery. I can still recall the abrasive feel of a freshly laundered uniform, its stiff material a harsh contrast to the softness of weekend freedom. That discomfort was just a precursor to adult life.
For one year, I worked in my father's scaffolding company. Handsworth in midwinter was dark, freezing, and wet, with a week's worth of structures to erect and dismantle. The Monday mood was bleak, though I had the solace of knowing it was only a gap year. My workmates lacked that comfort, their despondence palpable in the cold air.
Journalism and the Thrill of Constant Work
University brought a reprieve, with Mondays blending into days of sparse lectures and overwhelming reading lists. Then journalism and broadcasting entered my life, and everything changed. Mondays became as exciting as every other day, filled with the adrenaline of presenting radio and television programmes.
I worked six or seven days a week, living the dream. On Sunday evenings, hosting Match of the Day 2, I'd sign off with, "That's it from us. Have a bearable week at work," assuming viewers shared a common dread for Monday mornings. For me, it never felt like Philip Larkin's toad work was squatting on my life, but the pressure was immense.
The Slide and the Search for Meaning
As my profile grew, so did the strain. Climbing the greasy pole of ambition was exhausting, but clinging on as things fell apart was even worse. When I was removed from a breakfast TV show, leaving me with just football matches to cover, my diary cleared. I thought I'd become a better parent, write a novel, and enjoy life more with all that free time.
Instead, I sank into misery. Too much time on my hands led to a profound sense of emptiness. Losing the football gig compounded this, leaving me with only two days of work a week on Radio 5 Live. Scrabbling for jobs, I oscillated between frantic filming and idle days, with Mondays meaning nothing at all.
Finding Balance and Structure
Two days of work in seven weren't enough to earn the right to enjoy the other five, financially or mentally. Getting a Guardian column helped, securing Wednesdays, but three guaranteed work days still left my sanity in question. It wasn't until I landed a Radio 4 gig on Saturday mornings that everything clicked.
Now, I work four days a week, from Wednesday to Saturday. It's not backbreaking labour like scaffolding, but it provides the structure I desperately needed. Perhaps humans are wired for this rhythm, or maybe it's just me, but having workdays outnumber rest days has been transformative.
Embracing Mondays as a Sanctuary
With this routine, I'm knackered by Sunday, and Monday has become a haven. For the first time in years, I can do the square root of sod all without guilt. Oh, how I love Mondays now—they represent a hard-earned balance, a testament to the journey from workaholism to a fulfilling work-life harmony.
In the end, I've learned that work isn't a toad squatting on life; it's a vital part of it, giving meaning and structure to our days. Adrian Chiles is a Guardian columnist, sharing insights on work, life, and the pursuit of happiness.
