Our jobs are stealing our ability to enjoy life.

Anyone who has ever had a job knows the feeling, work is a bit slow, the colleagues who have been there for donkey’s years are chatting casually, and although there are technically things you could be getting on with, you let your focus to drop and your attention roams for something more interesting. Maybe you find a place to sit down on the shop floor and pull out your phone, or maybe you open a browser and pull up the news, or god forbid, Youtube. You select a video that looks interesting but just as it starts your manager walks back in the room. Everyone puckers, and you quickly close the window while pretending to write an email as he locks eyes on you. He paces past and you can feel his eyes on your monitor. He’s satisfied you’re being productive enough and moves on to his next hapless victim. It’s a feeling of being controlled, of suppressing the urge to be yourself, and of making yourself ‘acceptable’ for the sake of your employment. I’ve started paying attention to this feeling and notice how it manifests itself not only in my work life, but at home as well.

My first exposure to this frantic and meaningless form of productivity came in my early twenties after I joined the Marine Corps. Even after the initial stages of training, where every movement you made required speed and intensity, life as a Marine was one of rejecting ease and comfort, and repressing individuality. If you looked like you had nothing to do you were quickly given a task more menial than the last. And if cleaning the head for the fifth time that day wasn’t an available option, an NCO was dispatched to provide “remedial PT” which consisted of more miles run, more push-ups pushed, more pull-ups pulled. By sheer necessity I became an expert at “skating;” the art of getting out of doing things while appearing to be busy and motivated. To an extent, everyone was expected to do it. There’s just no way you can wake up at 5:00 am for PT and remain active, working or training for twelve plus hours. Naps were had wherever, whenever, and as often as possible.

In the end, living this way turned me into two separate people. One side of me bore up to the scrutiny of higher ups, had a clean uniform and did everything with a sense of urgency, while the other side, the one I brought home, was always on edge, high strung and was incapable of fully relaxing.

I always accepted this as simply an inherent part of being in the military. I hated it at the time, but I figured I would eventually get out and return to normal. I assumed that the person I actually was, the 20 something, free and optimistic kid, could simply shed the uniform and attitude, and carry on right where I left off. I soon learned this was completely impossible. That version of me was gone forever.

When I got out I intentionally looked for jobs with as little pressure and responsibility as possible. They were inconsequential jobs, with managers who demanded little, tried not to micromanage and left room for their employees to make mistakes. I avoided stress and tried to get to know myself again.

Disappointingly, what I found in these jobs was that, the lower the consequence, the higher the need to act busy, and stay at work until the very last minute of a shift, even if there was nothing to do. I remember staying late at the bike shop where I was working because someone couldn’t wrap up a conversation with a customer in time for closing. The purchase had been made and the trash taken out, but the manager refused to let any of us leave until they finished their conversation about high school football. No consideration for our families or responsibilities, and no paid overtime.

I hated this feeling of having no control over how I spent my time, of being entirely at the mercy of a boss who demanded things were done his way, even if there was no good reason for it. It made me angry, stressed me out and turned up the volume on my need to feel productive. You see, even at home on days off, I felt compelled to make the most of my time. On the days where I was in charge I felt a pressure to make the most of the little time I had, to have as much fun as I could before I had to go back to work. The chores I did around the house were done with a stressed sense of urgency because I was trying to get everything done as quickly as possible so I could get back to the demanding job of resting and recovering.

The little time we have on weekends and vacations put pressure on us to truly destress. By the time we take care of the things we need to just to live, we begin agonizing about the work day ahead. We’re stuck in this ‘productivity’ mindset where we feel we have to cram as much into your days off as into your days on. I’m sure you all recognise the feeling of finally making some time for yourself on the weekend only to stand in your living room in the middle of the afternoon, unsure what exactly you should be doing. You fantasized about that day off all week, but when it finally arrives you’d never describe it as restorative. If you’re honest you’d have to say you were bored.

Our jobs dominate our lives because we need an income to survive in this world. But the strain that comes with employment corrupts our lives altogether. We can’t just switch off the part of us adapted to dealing with the stress of work by grabbing a beer and spending a few hours scrolling on our phones. We have to intentionally destress before we can even start relaxing, never mind enjoying life. We pursue careers at the cost of our mental and physical wellbeing but we need to make more time for what we know is truly important in life. Are we sure we remember how?