Once upon a time in a life long ago, I worked hard. I don’t know if you could call it overworked. I never felt I had more work than I could do — if only they would let me get to it instead of using half my day in useless meetings. I always did the best job I could and worked as many hours as I needed to meet my deadlines while maintaining quality.
Blogging is the closest thing I do to “real” work these days, but I don’t get paid and I don’t have a boss unless you count me. I’m not such a bad boss, except I don’t believe in sick days. Even with a doctor’s note.
I think most of us who have worked in offices of one kind or another are mentally abused by micro-managing bosses who have never had to perform the work they are supervising.
I don’t know if that makes us overworked. I think it is closer to mistreated. The work is the easy part. Dealing with unrealistic demands, bad manners, and a myriad set of absurd rules and regulations turns a profession into a nightmare.
I’ve had a lot of bad bosses. Micro-managers and backstabbers. The cursedly mean ones whose main joy in life is making others miserable. The little emperors and empresses who think they have the right to rule your every breath.
I’ve had great bosses too. Managers who appreciated good work and believed it was their responsibility to help get the job done. To remove the obstacles and make work rewarding. When you’ve got a good boss, you can actually look forward to work. When you have a great boss, you don’t begin dreading Monday morning by Friday evening.
To all the great bosses I’ve had, thank you.
To the rest? If there’s a Hell, I hope you have to work for yourself.