For more than 20 years I was the hardest working person I know.
I actually got a lot of satisfaction from work, from working harder than my peers, from the kudos that came from hard work and commitment to my work and working miracles on behalf of my company. I took a lot of pride too that I was able to be the primary caretaker for my kids despite my hard work. I would often start working from home at 5:30 am until they'd get up at 7:00am, spend an hour getting them breakfast and off to school, work my butt off till 4pm, then log in again and work till 11 or midnight after the kids were in bed.
But this all changed a few years ago, when in relatively short order my kids reached their 20s, I was wrongfully terminated so my boss could keep a sizable bonus that he was going to owe me, then I took a job with management that were so reassuring during the interview process then turned into micromanagers from hell after I accepted the job, and finally the wife I'd loyally devoted 25 years of my adulthood to left our marriage to further her own interests.
Those kinds of things can change a person's mindset and frame of refereence.
I swore I'd never work hard again. That I'd do just enough to earn my paycheck while keeping my resume updated at all times and sometimes working two jobs simultaneously at once. And to my credit, for several years I've stuck to this, and actually done pretty well at it while padding my bank accounts.
This week was different.
It was the end of our fiscal quarter, and I have a boss who goes kind of crazy at the end of the fiscal quarter, and she micromanaged the heck out of me to make sure my work got done. Normally I wouldn't worry too much about it, but I had 10K in bonuses at stake, and an extra 10K (plus another 5K in my retirement accounts) for a single week of hard work seemed like a fair trade, so I stuck with it.
All week long I worked my arse off. I was up early working, up late working, didn't play hooky for hours during the day like I normally do. And by mid-afternoon on Friday I'd completed all my necessary tasks, and my micromanaging boss faded back into the background to harangue other workers who still had tasks to do. In short, my stressful week was over and my bonus was secured. Most likely, the stress is over for at least another 3 months, maybe forever, since I won't do that unless there is quick-to-pick low-hanging fruit (money) for the taking.
My fiance has never seen me work this hard. It bothers her sometimes that I don't take my work seriously, although I have zero debt, good retirement savings and fun money. I tell her how hard I used to work, of course, but she has to take my word for it since she never witnessed it. (And sometimes too my retired dad — who was so hard working and successful in his corporate career, and who was so proud of me during my hard working years — struggles that he has a son who is willing to coast for a paycheck.)
Yesterday, my fiance said it was good to see me working so hard. To see me care about my job. I could tell she was proud of me although she didn't say those words.
But I'm not proud of myself. Because I no longer take pride in working hard — I take pride in collecting a decent paycheck for a modest day's work. Because that means I'm benefitting from the bullsh*t of Corporate America without having to sink myself into it. And also letting my CEO (who made $1.5M last year) do the worrying and heavy lifting since he has a LOT more stake than I do (I'm a free agent with zero equity in any employer — jobs like mine are a dime a dozen that I can change like a hat if I want to). That in itself is a challenge, and a worthy one at that.
I sold my soul this week. And I'm glad that I'll have some extra play money for my efforts. But I feel no pride for my hard work, for in a way being a sucker. I'll feel better about myself next week when I get back to my old ways, of earning an average paycheck for a short day's work. After all, I live in a country where people make 25M for being a mediocre professional athlete, 20M for playing a role in a movie, or 100M for subpar running a corporate company into the ground before dumping it for a golden parachute — where's the merit in those things?
I don't make the rules, I just do my best to live my own life within them. That's something IMHO to be proud of.