Think back to the most annoying or frustrating day you've had at work recently. Perhaps a project didn't go as intended, or a co-worker let you down and caused more work for you. Perhaps you spent an exorbitant amount of time listening to an angry parent or client yell at you for something completely out of your control. We've all been there. We've all detached just a bit and dreamed of being anywhere than where we were, relaxing on a beach or enjoying the solitude of a mountain retreat. We've probably even thought about quitting our job and doing something else.
A lot has been made recently about the phenomenon of "quiet quitting". We are fixated on the idea that employees have simply checked out and are refusing to put in any more work than is minimally expected of them. There are fears that productivity is dropping and folks are simply waiting for the clock to strike five before they bolt for the door.
There are no doubt a lot of reasons for these perceptions. The pandemic has definitely reframed notions of work/life balance and given folks cause to reprioritize family, friends, and other aspects of their lives. The idea of staying late to finish up a project simply lacks the appeal it once did. For a culture focused on individual attention and recognition, we simply aren't as concerned with finding that attention and recognition at work anymore. Questions of pay inequity certainly enter the equation as well.
However, I also wonder if our collective tolerance for workplace discomfort has diminished somewhat. The phrase "the grass is always greener on the other side" can be traced back to the Greek poet Ovid, and more recently to an American folk song written in 1924. We've had this idea for quiet some time, always keeping an eye to the potential for something better around the corner. These feelings are triggered even more acutely when we have that bad day at work. We question whether it's worth it or if we'd be happier somewhere else. We fall victim to the seven year itch.
*Sidenote: The "seven-year itch" originally referred to a rash caused by scabies, which could take up to seven years to cure. The phrase was also used in it's current meaning first in 1952 in the play "Seven-Year Itch".
The reality is that everything sucks some of the time. Work, hobbies, relationships, all of it. The question we should be asking ourselves is what do we love enough to be ok with the suck and still want to do it? Do we love our work enough that we can put up with the crappy moments because we truly believe in the work and the value we bring to that work? Given enough time, most bad situations will pass. If they don't, of course, then perhaps that means "crappy" is indeed the status quo, and that's an entirely different problem.
At the end of the day, most of us want to feel like we belong and that we are contributing to something bigger than ourselves. When we find that and tap into it, than it becomes a lot easier to remember that everything sucks some of the time.
