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Every day when I sit at my computer, battling the ever-present antagonist that is my inbox and my to-do list, I repeat the same internal monologue.
“A million people would kill for your spot right now.”
“This is you living out your dream life.”
“I love my job I love my job I love my job.”
All of the aforementioned statements are absolutely true. We recently hired an assistant, like the most entry of entry “foot in the door” positions, and received almost 50 applications for that base-level job in just two weeks. I’m constantly asked if we’re hiring, how I got this job, what it entailed, what “advice” I have for someone with goals in the same industry. I’m asked for connections within the company, within competing companies, and so on and so forth. There are a lot of reasons why my life and my career and my job all look very shiny, very cool, and ultimately very enviable.
And that last part, the little head nod to a certain red head in The Devil Wears Prada, is also exponentially true.
I really do, sincerely, wholeheartedly, love my job.
But there’s a part of me that’s not so shiny and glam. The part who checks her email first thing in the morning, who hasn’t had a full weekend off in well over a year, who even answered a G-Chat after going through a funeral line. And that part is evidence that maybe I love it a little too much.
Where once sat someone who was professionally adequate but had a bubbling social life is now someone who never goes out anymore unless it’s an “event” for work. Where once was the girl who believed “things have a funny way of working out in the end” is now someone who adamantly only believes that things only work out if you refuse to stop until they do. Where once was someone who had balance and limits is now a self-diagnosed workaholic who doesn’t know when to say when.
My dedication to work and climbing the metaphorical corporate ladder is a defining characteristic of who I am. And as proud as I am of that characteristic, I think it might also be slowly killing me.
I worry about taking days off because of how behind it’ll put me when I come back. My anxiety makes me literally wake up at night panicking that I forgot to complete a task or that I dropped the ball on something I agreed to accomplish. On the days I do say, “Hey, not going to be available today.” I’m still instinctually a text message away because I’ve created a precedent where I always am that completely available person.
I’ve done it to myself; that isn’t lost on me. I know I’m very much responsible for the current state of affairs. But this self-inflicted “go go go” is becoming less outwardly admirable, and more internally self-destructive.
A response combatting the infamous “all millennials are lazy and love selfies more than they love anything else” Time article recently highlighted all of the ways that we as twenty-somethings (or newly thirty-somethings) are actually killing ourselves to work. Essentially, it points out that we’re so worried about the economy dooming us and just getting in our “shot” in the first place that we’re actually driving ourselves into the ground. We’re becoming “work martyrs” all in the name of setting ourselves up for the ultimate, most idealistic future.
But at what cost? Is the future even going to be worth looking forward to if you’re going to have pop a Lexapro in order to get there without having a panic attack?
I love my job, I do. But I guess I wish loving it didn’t seem to be synonymous with letting it completely define my every move.
Even as I finesse the final points of this essentially “woe is me” column, I’m thinking about everything I still have to do. I’m staring at my Google Calendar, just sure I missed something. I’m trying to anticipate how to get ahead, so I can take time off. I’m bracing myself for everything my CEO is going to ask me to add to my already incredibly full plate when have our inevitable, “let’s set some goals!!” meeting next week. I fight the urge to respond “duh” when one of my friends asks the oh-so-obvious question, “working tonight?”
Maybe someday I’ll learn how to take a knee from the never-ending marathon that seems to be “success in the workplace.” Maybe I’ll figure out how that whole, “Don’t live to work, work to live” motto actually becomes reality. Maybe I can find a way to make life for future me as cushiony, shiny, and lovely while also making life for present me a bit less of non-stop stress situation.
Hopefully, without the aid of Lexapro in the process. But present me doesn’t think that looks very likely. .
Image via Netflix
Respond
I don’t work when I’m not at the office. I may work a 8 hour day or I may work a 16 hour day, but once I step outside it’s not my problem until I come back in.
Emily, maybe you should try to love something else…like yourself. Giving up your life for a corporate company that isn’t owned by you is a special kind of retarded. The kind of retarded that may be able to solve high level math problems but can’t seem to grasp the concept of social interaction and love. If you own the company and see the money then by all means work away but these corporations don’t give a fuck about you. They’ll cut your ass out the second the bottom line begins to erode and all they’ll do is give you a pat on the back and say “thanks for all your hard work, we’re gonna take it and give it to some dude in India or a fresh graduate to do for 1/3 the overhead cost.” Listen, you’re gonna die. It may be soon, it may not be at all so re-evaluate things, ask yourself “why aren’t I doing mind expanding substances to further progress my evolutionary consciousness?” You’re becoming a former shell of yourself, don’t end up like 90% of ppl in the working world who gave up on their dreams to settle into a life sameness.
You waxing poetic AF Nived_Neirbo. Also when we getting another article?
My guess is that he has about ten rounds in the magazine, but the Brass won’t post them.
Full clip, let it rip.
I need to get back on the horse or whatever its called and write another publishable one. I appreciate the support!
I used to be like you when I was new at my job. Now, that I’ve been there for 2 years though, I have more of an “I dare you to fire me” way of looking at it.
I can relate to this comment on a spiritual level.
Using apathy as a coping mechanism for having a shitty job. PGP
I think the most difficult part of your 20’s is balancing hustling at work with building and strengthening the personal bonds that make life worth living. Sure, you should be putting in a stupid amount of time at work in your 20’s because it’s just easier to do that kind of work and gain that kind of experience when you don’t have a spouse, a kid, or a mortgage. But chances are good that if you want 2 of those 3 items listed, you’re not going to find them in your inbox.
So I think it’s about hustling, but with reasons behind it besides “I need to work hard because working hard is what I do right now.”
(Also, fuck a place that’s going to give you anxiety about taking time off. That shit just makes you even less productive.)
Im a self diagnosed anti- workaholic. I want to do a good job and have a good reputation at work but contact me during work hours or be subject to my fiery wrath.
I’m honestly thankful that I’m a workaholic and slightly OCD as it is perfect for my detail-oriented and time-consuming profession.
Can you tell I just graduated?
My boss has this exact mentality and if there’s one thing that I’ve learned from working at my company for two years it’s that I never want to let things get this way on a personal level. I’ll happily bust my ass during the work day but when my day is over I want to focus on unwinding and spending time with the people I’m close with. When I eventually have a family, the last thing I want is to be that asshole dad who works on weekends and never has the for his kids.
*never has time
Can empathize. Currently an entry-level analyst at a large company. Love what I do and get a weird thrill out of working my ass off, but also trying to recognize when I need to draw the line and take time for myself, whether that means working from home instead of commuting, or leaving at 4:30 when I’m genuinely finished with work and know I’d be just staying for the sake of appearances. It takes time to learn these things.
Also, figure out what you value outside of work. For me, it’s regular trips to OrangeTheory, my beer-league dodgeball team, and seeing friends and family. Once you figure that out, you can set boundaries, make time for other things, and overall feel less stressed and anxious.
What do you do? I’m never more than a call away from my job on the weekends or after hours, and I will gladly answer it if called. But I’m not going to be logged in otherwise. Life is too short
If I could ever recommend a book on this site, The Go Giver is a great one. Easy to read (100 pages) and something I think would help anyone struggling with working too much
Thanks for the tip on the book.