"You do what?!"

People are often surprised when I tell them I'm an Uber driver. In fairness, it’s probably not something very many lawyers do. We don’t fit the standard profile of a “typical” Uber driver. I get a lot of jokes about having "fallen on hard times" – but these are usually followed by a puzzled silence. They know it’s not really that. So, why?

I've told some of my friends I’m doing it for court-ordered community service. I tell them I was sentenced to 300 hours by the Waverley Local Court for streaking the SCG after a cricket game.

Of course, that’s obviously not true. (It was a soccer game.)

I tell other people that it’s part of a complex tax scheme and that, if I do at least one fare a quarter, I can tax-deduct my entire car and garage.

Worryingly, this explanation seems to be believed less often than the streaking one.

So why would a full time (and then some!) lawyer drive for Uber? It’s not like we have a lot of spare time to fill. And working as a driver is generally regarded as a menial job, wholly inconsistent with the commonly-held (and completely correct) view that lawyers are a superior form of life.

Well, it's certainly not for the income. After tax and petrol. I’d be surprised if there was anything left in it. If you add indirect expenses (tyres, cleaning, etc.) I'm sure I make a loss. Perhaps there is something in the "tax dodge" explanation, after all.

The reality is, I started driving for Uber because I really just wanted an excuse to drive around in my new car.

A bit about my car

In November 2018 I bought an HSV GTSR. My dream car. Big, loud, and aggressively Australian, it was proudly manufactured on the final day of production: 29 December 2017 – the fateful day the HSV factory finally shut its doors and Australia shut the door on domestic motor vehicle manufacturing.

They certainly went out on a high note. It’s a lot of car, the HSV – a thundering great black thing with a 6.2 litre supercharged V8 engine, massive 20 inch wheels housing 24 karat gold-plated brakes, an amplified (x3) 10-speaker sound system, and diamond-stitched leather sports seats.

If you can picture what you'd get if you gave Batman a Holden, a hundred grand and some LSD, you’re probably about right.

In the early days, I drove for Uber purely for the love of driving around in my new car. The passengers were really just the excuse. What was far more important was that I was behind the wheel of my fully hektik Holden, feeling the V8 rumble and exploring beautiful Sydney. It was great!

Uber therapy

After a few months of sporadic driving—a couple of hours a week, usually after work or during the weekend—I started to experience a second benefit. I noticed that, at the end of every little shift, I’d be in a good mood.

Even if I'd got into the car with my mind racing following another day of a zillion emails and interruptions, I'd be forced to focus 100% of my thoughts on a new set of very simple, easily achievable tasks and objectives – looking after my passengers, focusing on my driving, and completing fare after fare.

Anyone who’s ever had a bad day will know that a series of minor negative events or interactions, although insignificant individually, can accumulate like a toxin, leaving you feeling drained, frustrated and exhausted at the end of the day.

In exactly the opposite way, successive little achievements and small doses of positivity accumulate to make a day a "good day". The combination of little positive events and interactions is energising and uplifting. It recharges your batteries and leaves you with a spring in your step.

I've found that driving for Uber, by and large, is a welcome distraction from my work that typically involves a series of back-to-back achievements and positive interactions. One after one, they mount up and, by the end of my shift, I'm left feeling recharged and energised, and realising that I haven't thought at all about work for a couple of hours.

It's a very easy thing to do at the end of a long day, or for a few hours during the weekend. I just jump behind the wheel, log into the app, and see what the Uber lottery delivers up first.

I’ve had surgeons, chefs, politicians, stockbrokers and TV personalities in the back. One morning I picked up a brothel manager, who had overslept and was running late to open for the day. I dropped him off in front of a nondescript building, straight into the clutches of a huddle of shivering prostitutes, before driving quietly away and leaving him to his fate – another fare complete, another task accomplished, and (hopefully) another five-star rating.

If you're having trouble getting time away from your obligations and responsibilities, and you need some chill-out time outside your all-consuming worlds of career and parenthood, give Uber a go. You wouldn't want to have to rely on it for a living, but as an alternative to therapy, it's brilliant. Sign up today!

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Postscript: While we’re all here, if anyone wants to be part of fitting out an awesome new shelter for victims of domestic violence, AND getting a tax deduction before 30 June, AND knowing that you’re contributing to my suffering next Saturday - click here!