Worker’s High
February 18, 2009
I’m a work-aholic. It’s true. I can’t deny it. But after briefly reading Tribes by Seth Godin, I found the words to explain why I’m OK with it:
How Was Your Day?
It’s four a.m. and I can’t sleep. So I’m sitting in the lobby of a hotel in Jamaica, checking my e-mail.
A couple walks by, obviously on their way to bed, having pushed the idea of vacation a little too hard. The woman looks over to me and, in a harsh whisper a littler quieter than a yell, says to her friend, “Isn’t hat sad? That guy comes here on vacation and he’s stuck checking his e-mail. He can’t even enjoy his two weeks off.”
I think the real question – the one they probably wouldn’t want to answer – was, “Isn’t it sad that we have a job where we spend two weeks avoiding the stuff we have to do fifty weeks a year?”
It took me a long time to figure out why I was so happy to be checking my e-mail in the middle of the night. It had to do with passion. Other than sleeping, there was nothing I’d rather have been doing in that moment – because I’m lucky enough to have a job where I get to make change happen. Even though I don’t have many people working for me, I’m in the business of leading people, taking them somewhere we want to go. (pp. 100-101)
I knew it was passion, but Seth finally gave me a few words I could use to answer a few questions that are typically loaded with judgment and a bit of concern. He gave me some language to rebut the nagging expression of someone who hears I have some unused vacation days on December 25th.
“I love my job” is a pretty rare statement to make. And I’ve been in jobs I didn’t love, so I know what it’s like on the other side of that coin. (I’ll attempt to finish this post without writing too many cliches or getting too gooey about my company.) I don’t fret about working late nights, traveling a lot or leaving vacation days on the table. I approach work very differently. I see myself as a marathon runner in the working world.
I don’t get runners. I don’t get running. You move at a relatively slow pace exerting a lot of energy to do so. The environment doesn’t change much and the farther you run, the farther you have to run back. When I explain this to my running friends, they look at me in disbelief. They are addicted to running. They describe what I’ve never felt – “the runner’s high”. Apparently, after running, they feel really good. I once tried to pick up running for this high when I was in college at Northwestern University. I began running from dorms on the north end of campus. Fifteen minutes later, I was panting in Burger King ordering a Whopper Meal with a fruit punch. There is no high for me in running. There is a high for me in working.
Another friend of mine tried to explain to me the concept behind the book The Four Hour Workweek by Timothy Ferris. I haven’t read it, but my friend’s explanation of the goal is “to be able to make the same amount of money you’re making now, but only working four hours a week”. Needless to say, we got into a pretty heated debate. I find nothing wrong with finding efficiencies in my work or managing my time so that what I do now can be done quicker. I can’t imagine stopping at that though. If I reduced my workweek to four hours, may heaven strike me dead if I don’t find some inspiring, challenging, world-changing task that takes me 36 hours or more to manage.
So, I put in a few more hours than the average Joe might want to. I spend a few more nights sorting e-mails or thinking about a project. But while so many people head into the office leaving their passions at home, I get to pack mine with my peanut-butter jelly sandwich and cheese stick. Outside of family, there’s not a whole lot higher than that for me.
