I’m on sabbatical.

Ok, maybe “sabbatical” isn’t the right word because I quit my job. But it is the right word in that I’m taking a break. A substantial one.

After I’d been toying with this idea for a bit, I stumbled on an interview with DJ DiDonna from The Sabbatical Project. He believes that “a sabbatical isn’t just an expense. It’s an investment in your future self.”

I am one of the most risk-averse, decision-phobic people you’ll ever meet, overthinking and doubting even the tiniest choices. Plus, I am a world class catastrophizer… so quitting my job and jumping into the Great Unknown is a Really Freaking Big Deal. Shockingly, I’m not nervous about it. I’m giddy and exhilarated.

My presidential project is a giant (albeit accidental) experiment. It’s shocking to me how much I’m able to accomplish working solo a few hours here and there. I’ve long wondered what would be possible if I had gobs of uninterrupted time to create as much as I can. Would I love it? Would I get into a rhythm? Would turning my project into a job suck the fun out of it?

There’s only one way to find out.

Here’s my plan

For two solid months, I’m hunkering down: 

I will spring out of bed at 5 a.m., full of pep.

I’ll start the day reading for a bit and practicing Yoga With Adriene before anyone wakes up.

I’ll hang out with my kids and be more relaxed, not rushing them through the day’s Wordle so I can go to work. 

My “job” will be my project.

Drawing. Reading. Creating. Connecting. Learning. Exploring. Experimenting. Playing.

I’m not going to look for a job.

I still have my job alert notifications on, but it’s obvious the websites gave up on me. They’ve been begging me to take a job, any job, for a while now. Dental receptionist on the other side of the country? Skilled carpenter? (Ok, I do have experience on job sites. But mostly sweeping saw dust and hauling things.) If the perfect opportunity presents itself (a job that involves reading whatever I want and doodling and making stuff with tons of autonomy? Full-time presidential doodler? Is that a job??), I’m not going to let it slip through my fingers. Buuut for two months, I’m not going to actively look for anything.

I’m not going to entertain or seek out freelance opportunities.

This may be shortsighted, but I know myself. If I’m trying to find The Next Thing, I won’t actually be focused on This Thing, and This Thing is my ultimate short-term goal.

I’m going to enjoy a cozy hermit life.

If I don’t want to leave the house and go into the freezing cold and interact with people, I’m not gonna. You can’t make me. You’re not the boss of me.

Sure, I’ll grab a cup of coffee here or there. Do some light networking. But nothing strenuous — these two months are largely for my work. 

Collaborate.

If any collaborations pop up, fantastic. If not, that’s cool, too. For now, I have two things on my calendar:

• On January 13, I’m participating in live history trivia with Dead History — pitted against actual historians. I will get my butt kicked spectacularly and marvel at my inability to buzz in quickly on the rare times when I know the answer.

• On February 9, join me for a crossover presidential trivia event with LearningPlunge. Their awesome trivia. My doodles. I can’t wait. Sign up to play. (It’s free!)

Doodle daily.

I haven’t been drawing much lately. I miss the regularity of my covid journals. For two months, I will post at least one drawing every day.

Note to self: FLOTUS Friday…? Could that be a thing? Yeah, I think it could be. And it can help me fill in my First Ladies page.

Post a new blog every week.

Have you heard that story about the pottery class? Half of the class was assigned to make one pot – to spend a semester studying and learning and refining just one perfect pot. The other half was directed to make as many pots as possible. At the end, they’d pick out the best for a competition. Know who made the best pottery? The half that made the most pots. Not the half that agonized over every detail and aimed for sheer perfection.

I realize that if I’m churning out more doodles and posts, no one is going to have time to keep up with me. Weekly blogs are a lot. I don’t expect many views, but the thing is — it doesn’t matter. The more I write and draw and post … the better I’ll get. Even if no one is watching.

Break bad habits and replace them with healthier ones.

Reduce mindless scrolling. Get back into yoga. Eat less sugar.

(Doodle from The Last Founding Father: James Monroe and a Nation’s Call by Harlow Giles Unger. I will not be damning coffee.)

Make more merch.

Who knows. Maybe the merch store is a terrible idea. Before I decide it’s awful, I need to actually try to make it decent.

For two months, I commit to adding one new item to my store every week. (Merch Monday, perhaps?)

Buy a real damned keyboard and monitor(s).

I can’t tell you how much it slows me down to work on a laptop. Every time I fold my laptop down to draw, then want to hit a key command? Augh. Don’t even get me started on the poorly placed off switch that I inevitably press at the worst possible time. Without all of my work equipment, there’s room on my desk for some new stuff.

Goals

Change of pace.

For the past nineteen years, I’ve worked for the same company. Nineteen years is a loooong time. I thrive on familiarity and routine, but it was time to shake things up.

Make progress on my book.

Devote a substantial amount of time to it. Send it out to more publishers and agents. And fix up the book page on my website.

Get to know myself better.

A steady paycheck, benefits, and job security is a pretty sweet deal. But how would I feel about being my own boss? Would the autonomy be intoxicating? Would I bore of my own company? Would I enjoy the flexibility of freelance life and making my own schedule? Or would I miss having colleagues, meetings, and structure? (I can barely say that last bit with a straight face. I wrote up a set of rules that govern my project, for crying out loud. Also, I’ve had the structure of my sabbatical days planned for weeks. Structure won’t be a problem.)

I’ve spent my entire career working in-house as a graphic designer, in various roles (most recently as a creative manager). Except for a brief stint as a packaging designer, I’ve largely worked for companies selling intangibles. I love working in-house. I love designing. It’s possible my next gig will be doing the same thing at a different company, in a different industry.

Or maybe I’ll discover that I want to freelance. Or even try to make money with my project. (Landing a book deal? Creating materials or content for historic sites? Selling my trading cards and other products? Speaking engagements? Commission work?) It’s too soon to tell.

Build skills.

I want to sharpen my current skills and build new ones. In perusing job postings, many require animation or video skills. Skills I lack and have no interest developing. Or do I? I’m going to find out.

I will devote time to playing in Adobe Fresco, figuring out how to add motion to my doodles, and soak up everything I can from Chris Piascik’s incredible videos. Perhaps take some Skillshare classes.

I will add videos to my sad YouTube channel. Maybe I’ll love it. And maybe I’ll want nothing to do with it. There are no wrong answers.

You’ll notice I’m not even including a link to my channel. That’s how sad it is.

Seize opportunities. And create them.

For a while now, I’ve been saying yes without hesitation to things that Heather circa a decade ago would have turned down immediately. (Doodling live on Instagram with America’s Favorite Author, Bob Shea. YES! A chance to get absolutely decimated in a live (!!!) presidential Jeopardy-esque trivia challenge, pitted against history buffs, professors, and authors? I was completely destroyed. And I’m doing it again! Share my project with a college illustration class? Hell yeah! (The biggest surprise? It was an absolute thrill. Public speaking was fun. I didn’t put the class to sleep! They asked interesting questions and laughed at my corny jokes. I had a blast.)

Slide from my very sophisticated first public speaking engagement.

Read a lot.

Fiction, too.

If Herbert Hoover managed to read a couple of hours every day while running the country, I have no excuse. (Doodle inspired by Glen Jeansonne’s Herbert Hoover: A Life)

Underschedule. But schedule.

I will enjoy a brief respite from feeling overbooked and overwhelmed. My days will be carefully mapped out using my crisp, new perpetual calendar. (Isn’t it beautiful?)

Take care of stuff that I never have time for.

• Donate blood. ‘Cause I’m always making excuses why I can’t do it now and should wait for next month.

• Freshen up my website.

• Go through my notebooks of ideas and bring them to life.

• Finally rate and review all of those podcasts that have been giving me inspiration, laughs, and knowledge over the years.

Want to support my sabbatical?

Here’s what you can do.

If you want. No obligation.

• Any advice? Books to read? Ideas? People to connect with? I want to know.

• Send me words of encouragement. But only if genuinely psyched about this. I don’t want any false niceties or dismissive pats on my head.

• If you’re into presidents, doodles, or emails that are inexplicably too long – sign up for my free monthly email newsletter, The POTUS Notice.

• Follow me on Instagram. (And then hit that stupid button that you have to hit to actually see the Instagram posts. The icon with a plus sign and a person.)

• Check out my merch store. Let me know if there’s something you would buy if only it was available.

• Drop comments into blog posts. Maybe even this one!

• If I’ve inspired you to read a particular book, consider purchasing it through my Bookshop. Any purchases through an affiliate link help support my project. 

• If you know of someone who would be into my work, share it.

Giddy up!

December 22 was my last day at work. My official sabbatical starts January 1. (Why? Easy math. And depending on how this experiment turns out, January 1 is a perfect personal Independence Day. But I’m not working a full day on Day 1. My new boss is cool like that.)

Will it be amazing to work on my project full time? Or will it sap all of the joy? Be too much pressure? Will I find constantly promoting myself uncomfortably icky? Will the loop of endless questions stop scrolling through my brain?

Follow along and find out.