The seductive peril of loving your job

If there was a time when I did anything other than sit in meetings with lawyers and bankers and consultants, I’m not sure I can recall it.  There must have been a point where I didn’t do any work on weekends, but if there was it’s lost to my recollection.  I go to sleep thinking about my to-do list, I dream about document mark-ups and wake up with draft emails buzzing around my brain.

The context for all of this is that I’ve spent the last few months totally immersed in work. When I say totally I mean totally. Calls and meetings all day, late nights, weekends, the whole shebang. Any spare time that I have I’ve been trying to avoid being a terrible father and husband and do the minimum around the house to stop things falling over. However, there’s been no time for anything else. Exercise, friends, hobbies, all of those have gone by the wayside.

I kissed a girl did some work and I liked it

You’d be forgiven for thinking therefore that this is going to be a rant about work. Actually no. While a bit of me feels guilty, most of me is loving  this.

Without leaving any space for false modesty, through all of this effort I’m absolutely smashing it at work. I’m meeting deadlines, getting good outcomes, and energising the team. That all feels good, really good. The narcissist in me loves the bantering with the CEO and Chairman because we’re working so closely together, it loves the fact that in meetings people care what I think and that my opinion can change the room. Whatever the work equivalent is of being a big-man-on-campus is, I’m that golden child right now. And I’m aware that it is turning me into an arrogant idiot which the sane corner of my brain is watching with horror.

But that’s not the real reason it feels good. The real reason is that I feel like I’m doing good work. Even more than that I am helping the team do good work and they appear to be enjoying what they are doing. I love the way that some of them are coming out of their shells and showing the rest of the company the potential I always knew that they had.

Being good at things – and, crucially, being respected for being good at things – has always been a motivational factor for me. Latterly I’ve added being a good manager to that list. Things like money, or status, or job titles are secondary to those. While it’s all towards a commercial goal rather than anything more altruistic, what I’m doing is making a difference. I feel valuable. Being needed is worryingly seductive.

Working 5 to 9 what a way to make a living

I know lots of people whose lives are work, TV, and chores rewarded by a takeaway in front of Strictly on weekends. Rinse and repeat, week after week. The only glimmer of light being a couple of weeks in the south of France in the summer.

There but for the grace of God go I, so I don’t judge people like that. Nonetheless I’ve always thought that I want to do everything I can to avoid ending up there.

The reason that I’ve wanted to avoid that is because it was my life during my 20s. There is something deeply attractive about immersing yourself in work. Work was for me an all-purpose excuse. Having to work is a reason to not exercise. It’s a reason to decline social invitations. It’s a reason to avoid chores.

In my twenties this became a reinforcing cycle. As I focused on my career I got promoted, more money, more status. When I got those sweeties I wanted more of them, so I carried on working, and working, and working. If I ever stepped back to think about what I was actually doing I convinced myself that was all to build a better future. This was my one shot. Seize my opportunities. Carpe Diem. Work hard now so I don’t have to later. There’ll be time for everything else in the future.

It wasn’t true or course, I was doing it for the buzz. That feeling of being good at something. The admiration of my peers at work and bragging rights with my friends (the few times I saw them).

I want to break free

I spent a long time working to change my mindset from that. And I managed it. It’s why I’m now at the latter stages of my journey towards financial independence. I’ve developed hobbies, I’ve rebuilt my relationship with my family, I have reached back out to my friends. In short I’ve worked to become happy.

It’s not been easy. It took real effort over half a decade for me to break out of it.

But was that effort all for naught? I was the rat that almost escaped the maze. The addict that had been clean for years. But in the last few months I’ve allowed myself to be sucked back in.

‘ware wisdom

Part of my problem is that I’m not a Financial Independence prodigy looking to pull the plug aged 30. Rather I’m pretty normal. I worked hard and I was competent at my job. As a result, in my early 40s I’m in a mid to senior management role in a medium to large company. This is where a lot of my peers are as well.

The result of that is that I know what I’m doing. There’s not a lot of things at work that I can’t handle. Up until my mid thirties I was still very much learning my trade. If I had hit Financial Independence before then and quit work I would have possibly felt a sense of relief. Work was stressful at that age as I had a full measure of imposter syndrome.

Now I’m the expert, the one doing the mentoring, the wise head in the room. I’ve been around long enough that history has rhymed with itself several times. I know how to overcome most challenges. That’s why I was asked to take on this project. The problem with that all that is that my professional competence has become tied up with my self worth. If my social approval is based on work then that’s a problem.

What’s it all good for? Absolutely nothing

As I say I’ve been down this slippery slope before. The short term hit of approval at work turns into a longer-term addiction. As all the other sources of external validation get neglected the esteem of work colleagues becomes a drug of choice. The more you get, the more you want. So you work harder, spend more time at work, and so the other sources of self-esteem get neglected further.

But to what end? Having been on my Financial Independence journey for a while, I can see this false god for who he is.

No one that I work with is going to look back in 10 years’ time and think, “Man, that email that Caveman sent was one of the most amazing things I ever saw”, none of the consultants are going to say, “That conference call that Caveman chaired changed my life”. Heck, in ten years’ time even I won’t remember what I did.

By contrast though my children are going to remember that I missed their school concert. My wife is going to remember that she had to do all of the housework, AND look after the kids, AND hold down her own job for too long. My not-very-well parents are going to remember that not only did I not come round to help them, but I didn’t even manage to call regularly to check in on how they were. I’m going to turn round and realise that instead of improving my physical and mental health, this was a time when I fell deeper into the pit.

Just one more year. One more little year.

As I reflect though I realise that this period is the canary in the mine. When it comes to properly stepping back I’m going to be very susceptible to one-more-year syndrome. The temptation to carry on working is going to be there. Not because I would be worried about the money – although I’m sure that I will use that as my excuse. No, it will be because I’m addicted to the affirmation that goes with work and the fear that I won’t find that affirmation elsewhere.

If this was costless it would be absolutely fine. What would I not want to spend my days doing something that is interesting, well paid and where I am valued? But it’s not costless. The short term hit that I’m getting from approval at work is superficial. I am paying the price in the things that really matter.

I want to break free (again)

Whether he said it or not Einstein is credited with saying that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. In this case is it realistic to think that if I carry on working in like this I am going to end up happy and healthy? That this time it’s going to be different? Of course not.

Through no effort on my own part I‘ve been thrown a lifeline. The project is in the eye of the storm so I have been able to drag on that lifeline to put my head back above the water. Writing this is the equivalent of taking a deep lungful of fresh air. The lure and the pressure to go back under is still there though. The attraction of being able to narrowly focus on work and to feel like I am nailing it.

I’m not going to do that though. Or at least I hope that I won’t. Work will become busy again shortly but I am going to try to keep my distance. Do what I need to but maintain perspective, delegate, walk away, decide that good enough is, well good enough.

Before the storm hits again I need to hold onto the rocks in my life. I know that my real rocks are family, community, health, self-development. Those are what I need to cling on to when the work storm rages once more.

I know all that, but when the work winds are whipping my face and I am riding the adrenaline it’s hard.

Can I do it this time? I honestly don’t know

Wish me luck