Unstructured Time, Well Spent
What I did with my time when I had 2.5 months off this summer
I left my last job in June, and thanks to French labor law and something called a rupture conventionelle, I found myself with several months paid ahead of me, free to figure out what I wanted to do next.
I’ve seen other friends in this situation do something big with their time off. A friend pulled together paperwork to apply for French citizenship and took the French driving test. Another spent the months building a bike from scratch. Others signed up for long-awaited yoga and surf retreats in Bali or finally set aside time for cooking classes they’d been talking about for years.
I didn’t have any grand plans.
When people asked what I was doing with my time, I felt a little self-conscious and kept saying, "Not much," because it felt like maybe I should have been doing something more structured and impressive?
I didn’t set any major goals.
Instead, I decided to sit back and let the time unfold, hoping that if I gave myself enough space, clarity would eventually come.
Now it’s October, and I started a new job in September after 2.5 months off, so I’m reflecting on what I actually did in that time. Honestly, I’m not sure how interesting this is to anyone else, but for me, this period was important, and I want to share it in case it resonates with someone else.
Those months flew by, and I didn’t end up writing this newsletter or doing anything you’d call "productive" in that time. But when I think back, the time took on a clear shape.
The First Few Weeks
At first, I was still glued to Slack and email, even while lounging on paradisiacal Greek islands, even while I was “on vacation.” Because I wasn’t really. My mind was still tethered to work. I finally deleted Slack after the fourth day, but for almost a week, I’d catch my thumb still searching for the icon—it was like a phantom limb.
I spent the first two weeks traveling to Greece, then the Beaujolais. But when I got back to Paris, I was meeting up with people, thinking about what my next move should be, and constantly trying to figure out what I’d do when I was ready to “get back in the game.”
It wasn’t until about a month in that things shifted. I really let go and allowed myself to slip into a deeper kind of rest—one I didn’t realize I needed.
I wasn’t on any clock. I lost track of days and scheduling. I actually relaxed. I slowed down. Without forcing it, I found a rhythm.
And I started to notice the same few things pulling me in—relishing summer, reconnecting with people, taking care of my health—no matter where in the world I was.
It wasn’t aimless, in retrospect. In that unstructured time, I found a kind of natural consistency in what grounded me.
Here’s what I actually did with all that time
I soaked up summer. Last summer was brutal. My mom had cancer, and many days were full of hospital trips, chemo, and radiation. It was tough on us all. Thankfully, she made it through, but that heaviness blanketed everything, and it took several months for the emotional fog to lift. By then, it was the dead of winter. So, this summer, I wanted to feel light again. I spent as much time as possible outside—soaking up the sun, swimming, watching 11 pm sunsets twinkle over the Med, dancing, just being. Whether I was on a beach in Greece or back home in Paris, I banked those moments for when things inevitably get heavy again.
I saw my people. Living abroad means I miss a lot of milestone events, and even more events in between. For every wedding I can attend, there's a destination bachelorette party or birthday I have to decline. There are first words and steps of my nephew and friends' children that I miss. But with two months of free time, I could actually say yes to almost everything. I reconnected with friends and family I hadn’t seen in ages. I also made room for new people. I had the time and space to be present for others.
I met new people. People always say Paris feels like a village, but it’s hard to experience that when you’re new. This summer, for the first time, I really started to feel that sense of community professionally—like I belonged. I reached out cold to people I found interesting, reconnected with folks I’d met once or twice at networking events over the past 3.5 years, and offered to grab coffee at convenient spots near their offices. It was so nourishing to chat with so many interesting people—entrepreneurs, operators, investors—and to feel like the city had opened up in a way it hadn’t before. Without really meaning to, I refreshed my professional network in Paris and London. Without time pressure, I could sink into conversations and meaningfully catch up.
I dialed in my health. I hadn’t planned to focus on my health, but I did. I wore a continuous glucose monitor for a couple of weeks, bought an Apple Watch, revamped my workouts (Zone 2 cardio became a thing; I restructured my weightlifting routine), and prioritized sleep. What surprised me was how much I learned about my body beyond generalized advice. I paid attention to how I felt, using hard data as a touchpoint. I’m entering my mid-thirties, and I’m aware that the habits I form now compound and will shape how healthy and vibrant I feel decades from now. I want to lay the groundwork for that.
I got better at life admin in France. Life in Paris is full of wine and croissants, sure, but it’s also full of paperwork. This summer, I tackled some of the behind-the-scenes work that had been piling up—understanding multiple tax codes and bank accounts, finding doctors, and improving my French to make it all easier. It took energy and patience (like everyone, I hate doing these things), but now it feels like a weight has been lifted.
I revisited my skincare routine. With more time, I figured out what my skin needs. I wasn’t rushing out the door in the morning, so I experimented with products and found what actually works for me. The biggest changes were that I added an enzyme mask into my routine (I have very sensitive skin that reacts with chemical burns to many popular products, so most exfoliating masks are too abrasive for me); I changed my moisturizer to a heavier one; I found my favorite daily sunscreen; and I now use a morning exfoliant to help with small clogged pores.
I watched the Olympics!!! I love the Olympics and attending the games live had been on my bucket list for years. I saw swimming, trampoline gymnastics, beach volleyball in front of the Eiffel Tower, and golf. I went to many of the free fan zones erected throughout the city. I was overjoyed and inspired. Paris was electric, and it made me feel as if there was a steady stream of excitement running through my summer.
I tended to injuries. I also took time to deal with my injuries. I've had a shoulder issue since the beginning of the year that I finally got an MRI for (it’s bursitis), so that I could start physical therapy again with more clarity. I also broke my toe over the summer, so I had to reorient my routine around shoes with large toe boxes and a buddy splint. But without work deadlines, I could give them the attention they needed.
I wrote in a diary, instead of like this. I wrote just for me, whenever the mood struck, and never re-read or self-edited.
I also read. I chose not to read business books or anything resembling self-help. I read whatever I felt like. That ended up being a mix of fiction (fantasy, sci-fi, mystery, romance, literary fiction) and non-fiction (memoirs, investigative). No pressure, just enjoyment.
We started wedding planning. It feels good to have set the wheels in motion.
Rest Found Me
All of this is to say that, yes, I did a lot, but I also fell into a deeper state of rest than I even knew I needed. I was able to access a level of rest I rarely experience, mostly because I gave myself the time and space to truly listen to what my body and mind needed.
What I learned is that rest doesn’t always mean being inert and loafing on a couch. Doing nothing is also doing something if you let your intuition shape it.
By the end of the 2.5 months, I was ready and energized to get back to work—not because I felt I had to, but because I’d given myself the space to fully reset and wanted to try something new.
I didn’t need specific goals or plans to get what I needed from this break. It came together when I stopped forcing it. And sometimes, that’s enough.
The best of what I ate and drank on my travels
Just for fun and because I traveled a ton and visited Greece, the Beaujolais (France), Deauville/Trouville (France), Helsinki (Finland), Bretagne, Miami, Palm Beach, and New York this summer. I could only include 9 because of Substack’s gallery limit.
Top (left to right):
Anchovies, cucumbers, and ouzo. South of Naxos, Greece. Served to us without asking. Only people in the restaurant. First night on our sailing trip.
Shrimp, chiles, and “American sauce.” Luovuus Kukkii Kaaoksesta. Helsinki, Finland. Creamy, spicy, and quirky—a joyful restaurant.
Frappé. Iraklia, Greece. Wrote in my diary with this early morning coffee overlooking the island. Hard to imagine a better way to start the day.
Middle (left to right):
Goat pasta. Schinoussa, Greece. A dreamy evening.
Lobsters, langoustines, shrimp, oysters. Bretagne, France. Celebrating with Matt’s family.
Creamy chile pasta. Harju 8. Helsinki, Finland. A perfect, jazzy wine bar evening.
Bottom (left to right):
Lohiketto (Finnish salmon soup). Löyly. Helsinki, Finland. Replenishing after alternating between saunas and jumping into the Baltic. Blissful.
Monkfish, Kaffir lime, cream, cucumber. HUÎTRE BRÛLÉE. Honfleur, France. Did not see this coming in such a touristy town. Lovely pitstop on a day walking around with friends giggling in the rain.
Octopus, surf clam, grouper, rocoto leche de tigre. Maty’s. Miami, Florida. Bracing with a sauce that we busted out spoons to finish.
This was _so beautiful_ to read. Thank you for a window into trusting life, time, and embracing the unstructured pause.
I read to the very end, often abandon what I am reading mid article. Your insights and process are very valuable. Thank you.