At the end of last month, I was working full-time as an editor and videographer for a Maltese news organisation. When I first saw the job advertised, I was excited. Filming news and human interest stories around Malta, editing videos, learning more about what was happening on the island, it sounded fantastic.

I was entering my fifth month of travelling around Portugal with Sarah, staying three months longer than intended due to multiple cancelled flights, so our bank accounts were running low, and we could use the influx of steady income. So I applied. I went through two rounds of interviews to land the job. I negotiated a higher salary due to my experience. I flew back to Malta with full-time work guaranteed and the prospect of an exciting new experience and even new career.

But even before I began work the voice in the back of my head was asking ‘are you sure you want to do this?’ I wasn’t. And the result was an awkward conversation with the boss announcing my departure only two weeks into the job.

There seems to be this mentality held by some creative people and even non creatives who are working the daily grind that being busy all the time means you are the most productive person on the planet. That your self-worth is somehow tied up with how damn busy you are all the damn time. The busier you are, the more packed your schedule is, the more proof there is that you are working much harder than your peers or colleagues. And this is what defines us as people.

I confess that I was one of these people around four years ago. I use past tense as now I'm more chilled and sometimes less productive than I have ever been. I still get stuff done but in healthy moderation. Even with my full time job, I get home and manage to smash out a couple of hours working on an investment deck or marketing for one of my films.

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