Of all the compromises in life, work is perhaps the biggest. Five days a week, for eight hours a day, we have to spend our time doing things that frankly, we’d rather not be doing, surrounded by people we’d rather not be talking to. Admittedly, the alternative to work is normally doing nothing and being poor, which is also quite bad and has on occasion been quite detrimental to my mental health.
Some aspects of work I don’t mind: it’s good to get out of the house, it’s quite nice to catch up with people, and from time to time it’s nice to have some sense of purpose that doesn’t involve porn or maniacally scrubbing the floor. But the moments of pleasure hardly make up for the fact that most work is dull, stressful and soul-destroying.
Perhaps the most unpleasant aspect of many office-based jobs is meeting clients. With colleagues you can at least develop some rapport and throw in the occasional joke, whereas time with clients is mostly spent wearing a fixed smile and pretending to be human before you try to gnaw off your arm. In all honestly, I spend most meetings doodling into a notepad and looking like I’m taking notes, as talk of targets and delivery dates and end-user experiences flies by my ears. Every so often I perk up and try to say something vaguely relevant in order to remind everyone that I’m awake, but most of the time I spend wondering how and why I’ve ended up sitting in a meeting room, wearing a suit and tie.
More than anything, I’d like to be able to drop the facade that I care one whit about what the client is talking about: “I’m sorry. I haven’t been paying any attention at all. I couldn’t give a flying fuck about the project,” is what I want to say. “Did I just ask you about your weekend? I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer. I simply don’t care”.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be able to just stand up, yawn and walk out of the room as the woman with saggy boobs explains the unique hierarchy in her department and why deadlines for the new project are a political hot potato. I don’t care. I really don’t. Particularly on a Friday afternoon, when I’ve assured everyone I’ll be sending them that important email, when in fact I will immediately be going home and ignoring work until it is Monday morning. Please don’t leave a voicemail.
