Salon Money | Swamped

T A B L E__T A L K
Discuss how you can profit from stock market turmoil in the Business and Personal Finance area of Table Talk

R E C E N T L Y

Rich pickings, sour grapes
By Linda Tischler
A mother envies her daughter's lucrative entrance into the world of work
(06/19/98)
Get them while they're young
By Kevin Kelleher
Money managers are targeting children as the next growth market
(06/12/98)
Mad about Steve Madden
By Heather Chaplin
Wall Street loves this low-end shoemaker -- and so do fashion-conscious young women
(06/05/98)
Finding the g(ive) spot
By Kevin Kelleher
In the increasingly competitive quest for dollars, charity organizations are looking for ways to find that magic motivational appeal
(05/29/98)
The reluctant capitalist
By Heather Chaplin
Salon's Reluctant Capitalist looks at the knotty problem of what to do when you've won $195 million on the lottery
(05/22/98)
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Browse the
Money archives

SWAMPED | PAGE 1, 2
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Books are something people profess to "love" but have had to sacrifice for lack of time. They're not real good about newspapers, either, though becoming informed is on their to-do lists. But drop a reference to "Seinfeld," "Mad About You," "ER" or "Friends" and they invariably get it.
Adulthood is a strange reversal of school. As a student, you wanted to project an image of effortlessly doing well. People who worked hard were tagged "grinds." You hid yourself away in library stacks not for quiet but for secrecy. Now you have to look busy, even if the urgent message you're tapping out happens to be an e-mail to your old roommate.
I have exactly two friends who are honest on the topic of their workload. Both are successful. One is a lawyer. In general, lawyers are experts at time management. They're billing it, after all, and expertly draw it out. They developed Legalese, the peculiar written language of arcane subclauses that can make an intelligent layman weep with frustration, as a sober and worthy means of killing time. The genius lies not just in the time it takes to write the material, but to decipher it.
My lawyer friend works from 9 to 5. And he admits it. He is less skeptical than me, and believes that some people do work 12- to 16-hour days. "They're having fun," he says. "They flirt, they knock around on the Internet. They're inefficient."
My other friend, a writer, says he has "three good hours a day." I thought it over and concluded that I have about eight bad ones. That, of course, includes e-mail, schmoozing (i.e. "client relations"), lunch and snacks, my rotisserie baseball league, electronic Solitaire and three cups of coffee over two sports pages. I regard it as imperative to know what's going on in the world.
I sit in my office between nine and 11 hours each day. It's not because I work hard. It's because I'm lazy. Give me two hours to get something done and I'll do it in two hours. Give me two weeks for the identical task, and I'll give it to you in two weeks. I'm good about meeting deadlines. My friends admire my discipline.
Guilt and fear are rooted in the "swamped" myth. The rule of American meritocracy is that if you work hard, you'll do well. So if you're doing well and not working constantly, perhaps you're not entitled. The fear is that it might not last, and that it might invite less-than-great luck if you display anything less than extravagant doggedness.
The flip side of the work issue is sleep. It's like an obsolete ritual from an island culture: charming but vaguely distasteful. I tell people I drink red wine with lunch and nap from 1 to 3 every day just to see their expressions of horror. It's not actually true. I'd like to say I'm too busy, but if I were truly swamped I'd go out like a light. Stress depletes me. Still, a siesta is a goal, and I regret my failure to manage it so far. I'm working on it.
SALON | June 26, 1998
Todd Pitock is a freelance writer living in Pennsylvania.




T A B L E__T A L K Discuss how you can profit from stock market turmoil in the Business and Personal Finance area of Table Talk R E C E N T L Y Rich pickings, sour grapes By Linda Tischler A mother envies her daughter's lucrative entrance into the world of work (06/19/98) Get them while they're young By Kevin Kelleher Money managers are targeting children as the next growth market (06/12/98) Mad about Steve Madden By Heather Chaplin Wall Street loves this low-end shoemaker -- and so do fashion-conscious young women (06/05/98) Finding the g(ive) spot By Kevin Kelleher In the increasingly competitive quest for dollars, charity organizations are looking for ways to find that magic motivational appeal (05/29/98) The reluctant capitalist By Heather Chaplin Salon's Reluctant Capitalist looks at the knotty problem of what to do when you've won $195 million on the lottery (05/22/98) - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Browse the Money archives		SWAMPED \| PAGE 1, 2 - - - - - - - - - - Books are something people profess to "love" but have had to sacrifice for lack of time. They're not real good about newspapers, either, though becoming informed is on their to-do lists. But drop a reference to "Seinfeld," "Mad About You," "ER" or "Friends" and they invariably get it. Adulthood is a strange reversal of school. As a student, you wanted to project an image of effortlessly doing well. People who worked hard were tagged "grinds." You hid yourself away in library stacks not for quiet but for secrecy. Now you have to look busy, even if the urgent message you're tapping out happens to be an e-mail to your old roommate. I have exactly two friends who are honest on the topic of their workload. Both are successful. One is a lawyer. In general, lawyers are experts at time management. They're billing it, after all, and expertly draw it out. They developed Legalese, the peculiar written language of arcane subclauses that can make an intelligent layman weep with frustration, as a sober and worthy means of killing time. The genius lies not just in the time it takes to write the material, but to decipher it. My lawyer friend works from 9 to 5. And he admits it. He is less skeptical than me, and believes that some people do work 12- to 16-hour days. "They're having fun," he says. "They flirt, they knock around on the Internet. They're inefficient." My other friend, a writer, says he has "three good hours a day." I thought it over and concluded that I have about eight bad ones. That, of course, includes e-mail, schmoozing (i.e. "client relations"), lunch and snacks, my rotisserie baseball league, electronic Solitaire and three cups of coffee over two sports pages. I regard it as imperative to know what's going on in the world. I sit in my office between nine and 11 hours each day. It's not because I work hard. It's because I'm lazy. Give me two hours to get something done and I'll do it in two hours. Give me two weeks for the identical task, and I'll give it to you in two weeks. I'm good about meeting deadlines. My friends admire my discipline. Guilt and fear are rooted in the "swamped" myth. The rule of American meritocracy is that if you work hard, you'll do well. So if you're doing well and not working constantly, perhaps you're not entitled. The fear is that it might not last, and that it might invite less-than-great luck if you display anything less than extravagant doggedness. The flip side of the work issue is sleep. It's like an obsolete ritual from an island culture: charming but vaguely distasteful. I tell people I drink red wine with lunch and nap from 1 to 3 every day just to see their expressions of horror. It's not actually true. I'd like to say I'm too busy, but if I were truly swamped I'd go out like a light. Stress depletes me. Still, a siesta is a goal, and I regret my failure to manage it so far. I'm working on it. SALON \| June 26, 1998 Todd Pitock is a freelance writer living in Pennsylvania.