I Process Insurance Claims From My Couch. My 10-Hour Week Confession.

 I'm about to tell you something I've never told a coworker.

I work about 10 hours a week. Sometimes 12. Almost never more.

My job title is "Commercial Auto Claims Adjuster." My employer thinks I'm full-time, 40 hours. My boss assigns me 25 claims a week. I close 28. My metrics are green across the board. My manager gave me "Exceeds Expectations" at my last review.

And I haven't worked a full week since February of last year.

I'm not magic. I'm not a genius. I just figured out which parts of claims work are actually necessary and which parts are just habits old adjusters refuse to break.

Let me show you exactly what I do. And yes, I know someday they might catch on. But it's been 14 months. I'm still here.

The 80/20 Rule of Claims (Most Adjusters Don't Know This)

Eighty percent of your time goes to twenty percent of your claims.

Most adjusters treat every claim the same. They spend 45 minutes on a simple dented fender and 45 minutes on a three-car pileup with injuries. That's insane.

I flip it. I spend 15 minutes on easy claims and 90 minutes on hard ones. The easy ones close themselves if you just answer the first call fast.

Here's my breakdown of a 25-claim week:

• 10 claims are simple (rear-end, parking lot ding, minor sideswipe) – 15 minutes each = 2.5 hours

• 10 claims are medium (disputed liability, minor injuries, rental car issues) – 45 minutes each = 7.5 hours

• 5 claims are complex (multi-vehicle, serious injury, coverage questions) – 90 minutes each = 7.5 hours

Total: 17.5 hours. That's my actual working time. The rest of the 40-hour week is me doing laundry, walking my dog, and pretending to type when my boss walks by on Microsoft Teams.

The secret is that most adjusters spend the first 30 minutes of every claim doing nothing. They read the claim notes. They check the same systems twice. They call the wrong department. I cut all that out.

The Automation That Changed Everything (Don't Tell IT)

I built three email templates. That's it. That's the whole secret.

Template 1 – First contact, simple claim:

"Hi [name], I'm your adjuster. I've reviewed your claim. I need photos of the damage, a photo of your driver's license, and your repair estimate. Reply to this email with attachments. Once received, I'll issue payment within 48 hours."

Template 2 – Liability dispute:

"Hi [name], I've reviewed the police report and the photos. The other driver was cited for failure to yield. Based on state law, I'm placing 100% liability on them. Your deductible applies unless you have waiver. Here's the specific law: [link]. Any questions, respond here."

Template 3 – Closing confirmation:

"Your claim #[number] is closed. Final payment was $[amount]. No further action needed. This email serves as your closure notice."

I send these from my work email. I copy and paste. I change the name and the number. That's it.

No phone calls. No voicemails. No "just checking in" emails that waste everyone's time.

My claims close faster than my coworkers who call every single person. People don't want to talk on the phone. They want an answer in writing. I give them that. They're happy. I'm happy.

The One Hour That Makes the Other Nine Possible

Every Monday at 8 AM, I do one thing before anything else.

I sort my claims by urgency using one question: "Is someone's car undriveable?"

If yes, that claim gets handled before 10 AM Monday. I take the statement, order the tow, authorize the rental car. That's the only part of the job that's actually time-sensitive.

If no, that claim goes into a folder called "Tuesday." I don't look at it Monday. Not once.

My coworkers handle claims in the order they were assigned. Oldest first. That means they're spending Monday morning on a minor dent from three weeks ago while a person with a smashed windshield waits until Wednesday.

That's bad service and inefficient. I do the opposite. Urgent first, everything else later.

By Monday at 11 AM, my urgent claims are done. I spend Monday afternoon "working" (watching my email, answering simple questions, pretending to review files). Real work starts again Tuesday morning.

The Part I Can't Automate (And Why I Still Have a Job)

Medical bills.

I hate them. You cannot automate medical bills. Every hospital formats them differently. Every state has different fee schedules. Every provider codes injuries differently.

A broken wrist from a car accident could generate 12 separate bills: ER, orthopedic consult, x-rays, cast, follow-up, physical therapy. Each bill comes on a different day. Each has to be reviewed individually.

That takes me about two hours a week. I do it on Wednesdays with a cup of coffee and low music. It's boring. But it's the reason insurance companies pay me. They can't automate this yet. Maybe someday. Not today.

The Guilt (Real Talk)

Sometimes I feel bad. My coworkers are grinding. I see their Slack statuses at 7 PM. They have "focus time" blocked on their calendars for 6 hours a day.

I'm not better than them. I'm just lazier in a strategic way.

But here's what I tell myself when the guilt creeps in: My claims close faster. My customer satisfaction scores are higher. My error rate is lower.

The metric that matters is not hours logged. It's claims closed. I close 28 claims a week. The average on my team is 22.

If I can do 28 in 10 hours, why should I pretend to work for 30 more?

My boss doesn't ask questions because the numbers are good. That's the deal.

How to Start Your Own 10-Hour Week (Without Getting Fired)

You can't start at 10 hours. You'll get caught. You have to ease into it.

Month 1–2: Work 40 hours. But track every minute. Write down exactly what you do. You'll find two hours a day of waste. I did.

Month 3: Cut one hour. Work 39. Nobody notices.

Month 4: Cut another hour. Work 38. Build your templates during this time.

Month 6: Target 35 hours. This is the sweet spot where you still look busy but you have real breathing room.

Month 9: Try 30 hours. If your metrics hold, keep going.

Month 12: You'll find your floor. Mine is 10–12. Yours might be 20. That's fine. The point is not to be lazy. The point is to stop doing things that don't matter.

The Warning (Don't Be Stupid)

Do not work 10 hours if your boss measures keystrokes or mouse movements. Some companies install tracking software. If yours does, this advice will get you fired.

Do not brag about this. Not to coworkers. Not at happy hour. Not anonymously on Reddit with details someone could recognize. I'm telling you because you're a stranger. Your coworkers are not strangers. They will tell.

Do not ignore urgent claims to protect your low hours. If someone calls and their car is undriveable, answer. That's the job. The 10-hour week only works because you handle urgent things faster, not slower.

The Bottom Line

Insurance claims are full of boomers who do everything on paper and Gen Xers who refuse to learn email templates. If you're even slightly efficient, you can work half as much and still outperform them.

I don't tell my boss. I don't tell my coworkers. I tell you because someone told me once, and it changed my life.

The job doesn't have to be 40 hours. The job has to be done. Do it well. Do it fast. Then go live your life.

My dog is looking at me right now. It's 2 PM on a Tuesday. He wants a walk. I'm going to take one.

The claims will be there tomorrow. They always are.