The Work That Keeps Us From Our Work
There are weeks when I look at my calendar and wonder when I became an office manager for my own creative life.
Accounting. Contracts. Email threads that require four follow-ups just to schedule a meeting. Trying to file the 990 for the nonprofit before the IRS penalties kick in, even though the nonprofit didn’t even do anything that year. It all piles up.
This is the hidden tax of creative entrepreneurship: the admin work no one tells you about when you say you want to be your own boss.
I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve pushed a photo edit or blog idea to “next week” because I had to send one more invoice or fix a QuickBooks sync issue. The work I care most about is getting crowded out by the work that just keeps the lights on. Sometimes I flip things and neglect the admin work, only to feel the consequences of that financially or in stress that comes from having to deal with it later on.
And look, I know it’s part of the deal. Structure allows freedom. Paperwork keeps projects from imploding. But there’s a point where the overhead becomes the whole thing. You stop being a storyteller or artist or muralist, and start being a project manager who happens to also have a creative hobby on the side.
I came across this quote recently and couldn’t stop thinking about it:
“But the 8-hour workday is too profitable for big business, not because of the amount of work people get done… but because it makes for such a purchase-happy public. Keeping free time scarce means people pay a lot more for convenience, gratification, and any other relief they can buy… We’ve been led into a culture engineered to leave us tired, hungry for indulgence… and most importantly, vaguely dissatisfied with our lives so that we continue wanting things we don’t have.”
— Your Lifestyle Has Already Been Designed
The truth in the sentiment hits home. Because the systems that steal our time also quietly steal our creativity. When we’re too exhausted or distracted to make meaningful work, we become more susceptible to filling that void with consumption. Another gadget. Another course. Another productivity hack. Anything to feel like we’re regaining control.
So I’m trying something new: I’m scheduling creative work the same way I schedule meetings. Blocking time that can’t be rescheduled. Treating writing or editing or sketching with the same urgency I’d treat a client deadline. Not because it’s efficient. But because it’s essential.
If you’re not careful, the thing you built to support your creativity will become the thing that smothers it. Don’t let the to-do list win.