[Essay] Dedicated to office plankton. I am not inspired by my work

The first time I heard the term "office plankton," something deep inside me felt deeply offended. Why do we call ourselves such a dismissive, derogatory term? Is it because we're not going anywhere? Huge masses of water churn and collide, waves crash against the shore, and the plankton lie on the surface, photosynthesizing. And those that can't photosynthesize devour their green brethren. Or have we earned this title because we form mass, but not force? We simply go where the wind takes us.

Be that as it may, I'm completely overwhelmed by the melancholy—even the new coffee machine in the office doesn't make me happy. I'm sitting here staring at my screen, and it's only lunchtime.

My boss is a real bloodsucker. He nip every initiative I have in the bud. I remember times when I wanted to express my thoughts and offer a deeper exploration of the issue at hand, but those bright flowers in my heart have long since wilted. Today, project discussions are spent through tears of yawning for me. My soul, I suppose, is crying out for freedom. Should I become an entrepreneur? But in that business world, you have to take on all the risks and the heat of working seven days a week. It's amazing how those guys find time to sleep and how they don't go gray prematurely. So I should be sitting in my cozy little spot and rejoicing, but instead, depression drives me into the bottle.

They say even monkeys get indigestion from a boring job. Maybe that's the real reason for my suffering? My days aren't exactly fun: emails, calls, requests, negotiations. I'm haunted by the feeling that I've been busy all day, yet my productivity is zero. It's hard to separate Monday from Tuesday, Tuesday from Thursday. I feel like I'm living someone else's life, or maybe not living at all. I wish I could fly like a free bird to exotic islands. If only I had the money for a bungalow with an ocean view. I could sit under a bar stool, sip a mojito, and watch the sunset. After all, that's what we all strive for, to earn a sack of cash, right? And the fact that such a life will become tiresome in a week, and in a month will lead to degradation and the decay of the remnants of the soul, no one cares. What has no meaning, what doesn't touch the heartstrings, is boring.

A colleague once told me, "It's just a job." We've all heard it before. Don't take your successes and failures so personally. It's just a job; life is so much more important. And my favorite: "No one dies wishing they'd spent more time at work." So, I have to close my soul and become an emotionless shell for 40 hours a week. Then my self-loathing becomes clear. I voluntarily renounce my aspirations and ideals, I substitute the truth for what they want to hear, and the quality of my work loses all meaning to me. But I'm protected by my spinelessness and desire to please everyone.

Let me share a bit of my personal story. Avoiding conflict has never been my thing. Because of this, I've often been fired with a bang, and they were probably right. Who wants people who rock the boat on a team? I need to learn to listen more and talk less. On the other hand, would you want a doctor who agrees with everyone? Or would you prefer someone who strives to get to the bottom of things? That's exactly what I'm saying. I don't understand when the desire to do your job well became so devalued. It's impossible to live life without stepping on someone's sore little toe—conflicts are inevitable. And, out of weakness, someone in your circle will try to get rid of you in revenge for the inconvenience they caused. So what happens?

However, one can also live like plankton: float with the current, eyes closed, mouth open during feeding. A good, secure life. One single-celled organism, in any case, won't change the course of history. One person who decides to tell the truth won't reach millions. So be it. But I'm tormented by the knowledge that if I have to stop living in order to live someday, then why bother?

Work is not inspiring when you don’t strive to do it well.

Source: habr.com