For most of my adult, post-college life, I’ve gone to a class or a show or an open mike or somewhere that isn’t home after work. So, when I go home after work, it feels odd and a little disorienting. When I get back to my apartment on a weekday by 6:30 or 7:00, I start worrying that I’ve forgotten something. Am I supposed to coach an improv team? Did I promise someone that I was going to watch their show? Do I have a show that I just forgot about?

Lately, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the answer is no. I can just go home. And I really like it.

That probably sounds like an odd statement given how obvious it is for most people. It’s a bit like saying, “You know what I’ve been way into lately? Drinking water. Like, when you’re thirsty? So good.” But it’s a beautiful thing to have hours of free time when you’re used to not having it. During my work day, I was considering what I might do tonight. I could go to the gym or maybe I could go see I, Tonya at the Alamo. Maybe I could finish a book I’ve been reading. So many simple, stress-free activities at my disposal. It’s like fortysomething nirvana.

But then, before I was about to leave work, one of the producers on a project I’m helping with asked me how my page was coming in a way that let me know that I have to get it done tonight. I was going to have to work late.

So, for most of my adult, post-college life, I’ve also been able to work forty hour weeks. There have been some rare exceptions but I’ve been able to cap it there. I’ve been very fortunate in this regard that the thing that allows me to stay in New York has rarely bled over into the reason why I’m in New York. Working late is usually unthinkable to me and, if I do it, I’m doing you a huge favor, company that is paying my salary, and don’t you forget it. And weekends? Yeah, you didn’t just say that to me.

But here I am working late and I am very very cool with that because holy shit does it feel good to have a job. Not only do I like having a job, I like the job that I have. I like the work and I like the people. (I’m pretty sure none of them know about this blog, so, I’m not trying some slick move to curry favor with anyone.)

A couple of things. First of all, clearly they’re not killing me because I’m writing this right now. Secondly, I’m at home. I was able to bring my work computer home to keep working. These are both big privileges but still I’m working late.

I think everyone sees him or herself as the protagonist in their own story. I feel like I’ve followed the hero’s journey with my work life in the past few years. Look, the stakes are low so it’s more like the hero’s journey LITE but there’s a call to action, a refusal of the call, rising tension and complications, a climax, and finally “taking a new place in the old world.” After quitting perfectly good jobs to chase some dream of fulfillment and then not really finding it, losing money, losing a relationship, having a health scare, and having my anxiety get out of control, it feels really good to just go to work. When you’ve woken up in the morning not knowing what you’re going to do that day and not knowing where your money is going to come from for way too many days, it feels pretty damn good to wake up, know you’re going to work, and know you’re going to get a paycheck. I’m back where I was a few years ago. Back then I didn’t think I would say this about being a front end developer but I’m pretty content. I’m actually grateful. (Also, I’m technically a freelancer and I could totally get fired tomorrow but for now, in this moment, it feels good.)

It’s a simple pleasure, almost as simple as just going home after work. So, I don’t mind working a little late tonight.

Seriously, though, I don’t work on Saturdays for nobody.