The joy of work

The joy of work

H was away last week because of work.

I missed him, but was also secretly relieved.

It was a very busy week in the office because of the unfolding drama of the Malaysia Airlines plane that had disappeared.

With H away, I was free to focus on reporting the story without feeling guilty.

Marriage, I have discovered, doesn't always sit well with having a career, or at least journalism as a career.

Many times, I have found myself torn between wanting to stay in the office to do a bit more work and going home to spend at least one hour with him before we go to bed or, more accurately, before he sleeps and I stay up another hour surfing stories.

On weekends, I am glued to my devices checking office e-mail, The Straits Times website and our social media feeds.

I get especially distracted when big news breaks, like last weekend when the plane went missing.

On days like these, we don't get much quality couple time.

We're not the only ones.

On any given weekday at, say, 10pm in the newsroom, a fair number of my colleagues who have been in the office since the morning are still at their desks, typing away.

Many have spouses and partners waiting at home, even children.

I'm sure some dislike the long hours, but looking at their high-energy levels even at that time of the night, I'd wager many are rather enjoying their work.

What I'm not so sure about is whether their families share their enthusiasm for their job.

H claims he understands my long hours, and he is by now resigned to how my attention always strays back to work.

He doesn't complain about the continual "pinging" my phone makes whenever I get office e-mail alerts, even late into the night. But I am also aware that there's a limit to how far I can push it.

He has so far dealt with my absence or distractions by doing his own thing - watching football on TV, exercising and paying computer chess.

But if I'm not careful, we'll end up leading separate lives.

The so-called work-life balance was much simpler when I was single because I was the one calling the shots. If I wanted to work through a whole weekend, I just did. I didn't have to worry about spoiling someone else's day.

Come May, I will have been a journalist for a grand total of 29 years, all in the same newspaper.

For 25 of these years, I was single and wedded to the job. I lived and breathed my work, and if I wasn't in the office, I would be at home doing journalism-related stuff such as writing books.

I enjoyed what I did and didn't begrudge the demands the job placed on my life. It was my life.

When I got married in 2010, I thought my priorities would change or, more precisely, I thought it was time to change my priorities.

Now that I have a husband, do I really want or need to be so faithful to my job? It seems so pathetic.

Why not step out from the rat race, stop stressing, take it easy, go home at 7pm and see the sunset with him?

It hasn't quite worked out that way.

For one thing, I don't think I am working fewer hours. With technology, everyone I know is working more.

The thing is, while marriage life has its wonderful moments, it doesn't quite compare with the adrenalin rush of keeping tabs on a hot story, the satisfaction of writing a good story or editing a package that is read by hundreds of thousands of people.

I'm not saying every day in the office is an exciting day. There are moments, meetings and people that drive you up the wall. But I like the rush, the routine, the stress.

Is the rat race really that bad?

In the book Rush: Why You Need And Love The Rat Race, author Todd G. Buchholz says it isn't.

He argues that people are genetically wired to compete, and that competition can be a good thing. It leads to innovation, which leads to progress. More importantly, it is also what we love and need.

He argues that retirement can make you stupid, that it's okay to be a control freak, that there is satisfaction in work and that competition in the office is not a bad thing.

Besides, our bodies are flushed with good hormones when we take on new tasks, socialise with our colleagues, and when we and our team succeed.

My job gives my life purpose, structure and friends. And as I grow older, it is also a shield against dark existentialist thoughts.

I'm too busy working to be thinking of dying and death, which is why the idea of retirement - not near but not that far off either - fills me with dread.

If you've had a happy working life (and maybe even if you've had not), retirement will make you feel bereft. It's a closure of one huge meaningful chapter of your life and a stark reminder of your mortality.

I read an article on the Internet that cited 25 reasons "retirement rocks", and all I could think was how ghastly every scenario sounded.

"In retirement each day stretches before you filled with unlimited leisure and opportunity."

"You have lots of time to do the household projects you have been putting off forever."

"You can call your former co-workers while they are at work and tell them that you have just got out of bed and might go back for a nap after your midday breakfast."

"More than any other time in your life, you have the opportunity to put all areas of your life in proper balance."

American publisher Malcolm Forbes was probably right when he said retirement kills more people than hard work ever did.

But retire from our job we must one day and I suppose the only cure is to make sure you have something to retire to.

It's not too early to start planning for a later-life career.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to be thankful I have a job, and enjoy it while it lasts.


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