Avoiding work until 6am Monday
By: Maeve Macrae
Tags: Corporate Culture, Work Life Balance, Personal Development, Careers, Hustle Culture

A tried and true practice of evading all work until it is raining down upon you

As I’ve elevated in my career to a director level, I’ve come to know what increased responsibility looks like. It looks like shit. It is slavery to a man I do not want to serve, and it robs me of my spirit and soul each and every week. A team depends on me to lead. And at the end of each week, I am completely sucked dry of energy and spirit, but have to put on a happy face for them. And I do. Because it affords me the ability to live. An all too familiar narrative. Yet the price to pay has become too much of late. When is too much work truly too much?

Weekdays I begin at 7:30am, unless I had procrastinated over the weekend, and then I will get up at 6am and start sooner. Most days, I will not log off until 8pm at night, and sometimes later. Or I may eat dinner, and then get back online until 10pm or beyond. I may break for a meal with my partner, or a walk in the evening, but were he not to feed me, and pass me a snack during the day, I simply would not eat. Because the meetings are incessant. They happen all day, every day, and they happen during lunchtime. When are we supposed to get our work done then? We are in meetings ALL day, every day. I work at a huge corporation everyone knows by name and would think of fondly. And yet it is the most toxic work culture with incessant expectations of what we will deliver by when. You’re only as sharp as your last response, or your last project. When are you sending such and such in? What is the status of this or that? I can barely keep pace with what Outlook tells me are 180+ collaborators I am interacting with in any given week. Our bodies are stagnating. Or mine is. I regularly do yoga, and walk, but no amount of this can counteract the “glued to your chair” life of one Zoom call after another Zoom call for 12 hours straight. Why is this ok?

Come the weekend, I am utterly flummoxed and must have a complete mental detachment to recover. And I do. I listen to french podcasts, walk in the sun, do yoga, drink coffee and have leisurely meals. And what lies ahead on Monday I simply cannot face until it is actually time. The weight of it all is debilitating. If I do dare to open my computer on a Sunday, I’ll get pulled into a rabbit hole so fast that it gives birth to a bevy of other rabbits that begin procreating, with no end in sight.

The trouble in corporate America is that too many people with too much power live in a box (their home), then travel the same road every day to another box (their office). — Faith Popcorn (1991). “The Popcorn Report: Faith Popcorn on the Future of Your Company, Your World, Your Life”, p.29, BookBaby

My inbox is currently at over 20,000 emails, and each day they continue pouring in to the sound of a Vegas slot machine “ding ding dinging” — except you haven’t won. When can I cash in my chips? This isn’t what life is about, I know. But I feel like I have no choice as this is the only job I know how to do — and I certainly do not want to get hired to do the same thing somewhere else, as it would just be more of the same torture just another company name. Plus, how would I make a living? Pay the rent? Support us? Unless my partner’s career suddenly takes off, this is our current situation…

Photo by Aswathy N on Unsplash

But beware, corporate life, I am not one of you.

Somehow, I feel my boss gets some sick enjoyment out of seeing me logged in on a weekend. It is her way of life. Her goal to rise up that ladder, and never stop. She ignores her 2 children who climb all over her during the day, or tells them to go away until her nanny can occupy them. While I do not have children, I am not this person. I would never be that person. And thank God I do not have kids in this work from home pandemic situation.

Photo by Bermix Studio on Unsplash

If I can just make it until December, when bonuses are given— then I will have actually reached that sick carrot on a stick that I tell myself is worth all this effort. Then, I can go on. Or at least, it will be a mental milestone mirage I can celebrate. I will have made it all worth it for the past fiscal year.

All the stress, all the 12+ hour days. All for that sick American dollar, that promise of cash in exchange for my well-being. The cash which supports myself and my partner who is a freelancer. We will eventually break free. I could change careers. Explore something else. This year, that bonus, those golden chains will enable me to wipe out my student loans, once and for all, and be debt free! And then, that money I’m saving next year can slowly become a “rescue myself” fund to start over, to begin a new, different life or career. I just need time and space to do this, to explore something different. There WILL be a time when I can walk away from this life, and start a new one. A new job. Something more fulfilling. Even if it means I have to start at a lower salary — I am ok with that to begin again. Anything but this, and its maniacal pace of non-stop incessant meetings. From Zoom to Zoom to Zoom to Zoom, to this is due, that is due, this is politically stuck, that is unclear. The talking and talking and talking and talking about formats and templates and deliverables and who is in that meeting, and what is the outcome we want, and how can I add value, and what does this person need from me urgently and good GOD what is it all for? To sell another trinket? To convince another retailer to buy more? To write a brand plan, for what? It is all made up crap for someone to present to someone else. For someone else to say we’re ‘aligned.’ Well who gives a #@%$@#.

Photo by Gabriel Benois on Unsplash

My yoga teacher once told me it is who I am in this environment that matters, not “what” I am doing (as I had told him I still hadn’t found my calling, and felt despondent in my job). This may be true. And I’ll continue to be that person who is trying to stay as centered and Zen as possible in this toxic world of nothingness. And I know for a fact others do find light in my presence, even at work, and that I add humor and help others’ days feel a little bit brighter. But there will be another option, someday. Someday, I will look back on this and think “How did I do that?” Until then, chop wood, carry water, and continue saving, to plan my escape.