I work. A lot. And I associate with people who work a lot. One of my friends, a pretty high powered engineer, just got back from vacation, and he’s having trouble getting his head back in the game.
“I’m still like — wow, it’s sunny today … let’s go out with the dog and make excuses to the clients.
The trouble with working super-hard for years is that when you slack, the urge is to slack to a pathological degree because you have zero guilt built up.
I’m like — remember those all-nighters in 1997? Screw work!
It’s like I have an infinite psychoemotional credit account to draw down against. 10 million all-nighters, 20 family vacations ruined, 4476 arguments with wives and girlfriends about workaholism, a stretch in rehab due to work-stress-self-medication, etc.
The trouble is, clients and employers’ memories only stretch to last week.”
Funny how that works.