Desk Psychology

Sunday tends to be chore day. The cramming of so many errands into daylight hours, dwindling from the get-go as a countdown runs down to the week ahead. Cleaning, laundry, groceries, appointments, community events – some things pre-scheduled and some pushed out of necessity – to this, the end of the weekend.

Monday arrives, always too soon. Colleagues crack the same twelve jokes as everyone shares memes and gifs highlighting each aspect of a fresh work week. We search to caffeinate ourselves (our souls, more than anything) to address procrastinated to-dos that cannot be excused away without off-time looming.

Tuesday is probably the worst. Too close to the beginning of the week and too far from the end. Is that why so many drop-in leagues are scheduled for the evenings? Or why movie tickets are cheaper? Is anyone taking advantage of Taco Tuesday?

Wednesday is, anecdotally, interesting. Some consider it tough while others finally find their labor groove. A chance to gauge productivity for all with two days past and two days ahead; what has been accomplished and what remains to be done? Perhaps the longest day of the week for all those counting the hours.

Thursday feels better. The weekend nears. Laissez-faire inclinations have a habit of overtaking more motivated internal drivers.

Friday could be filled with anything – meetings, deadlines, last-minute requests – all are met with a strange optimism. Promise-ladened speech of things to look forward to ‘the coming week’ is the nitrous fuel that sees everyone through to the most anticipated End of Day. Labor done and dusted, perhaps a later night ahead.

Saturday is about as blissful as it gets. Anxieties around personal tasks can be forwarded another day. Personally valuable or amusing endeavors are undertaken. A weekly interruption in a work-dominated calendar.

Outside of this general setup: days demanding extroversion. Team meetings, department meetings, all-staff conference calls, webinars, trainings, gatherings, events – all conveniently and inconveniently, in heightened dialectical fashion, booked during the same eight-hour blocks. A maelstrom of productivity or lack thereof.

Or statutory holidays and paid leaves. Gifts from activists past often taken for granted. Rest prolonged, but never long enough to warrant true refreshment.

And what of that impatiently awaited, post-signoff time? That diminished set of hours beyond the desk relegated to family, friends, hobbies and life left unencountered from within the work bubble? What of its influence on this office mentality, on these cognitive strains that so many carry?

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We pencil pushers are able to find a commonality in how we understand and relay stresses, framed through these ever-present labor terms, because most of us are placed on similar schedules. Everyone’s opinion on the best days vs the worst days is usually determined by when they are away from or at their desk. Over a grander scale, our adult life phased out by and at the behest of labor realities. Study and practice a skill, then use it to earn income for say, 47 years or so, and then be granted a reprieve. Your youth and vitality likely not yours to enjoy fully unless you are born into the administration of the wealth-accrual game.

Of course, many learned minds have produced plenty of scientific summaries about the collective psychology surrounding corporate humanity’s interpretations of the week. Particularly our feelings towards the office space, attended in person or virtually. These analyses governed by many factors, not least, for us white-collar journeymen in ‘developed’ nations, our privilege in being able to complain in our blithe fashions about milquetoast constructions of the everyday.

But this blog, and today’s comment, is centered on pedestrian kernels.

Personally, I shuffle away from growing grey hairs ‘on the job’. My work involves sometimes difficult and heavy conversations with individuals who are experiencing the worst challenges and tragedies that someone can endure in this well-off but inequitable nation. I and those sharing my desk are expected to bring an ear, empathy and solutions to the table. Every single time. The emotional labor is demanding but not overly so; we are glad to be part of the conversations, contributing to worthwhile change. The toll is lessened by the significance of the spaces made open to us.

Regarding this desk psychology (this tendency to marry yourself to anxieties based on the days of the week and how far you are into your work day): while I remain trapped in the nine-to-five dialogue for now, the impact of these shared stresses burden me far less.

A consequence of choices made long ago, separate from any potential career trajectories, and thus freeing in various ways. Being single (by choice), independent, and financially secure colors my perspective. I have the same time available as most others. Paced and interpreted much differently. No evenings on shared schedules and no direct responsibilities to or over others. Aside from the occasional social with friends or family, no commitments to societal celebrations and commemorations.

Even the approach to this weekly psychological template – not met with resignation but determination. Socioeconomic diktats need not be embraced fully; I am saving aggressively and looking forward to an early escape from desk duties.

The point of this brief post being – labor directs our wellbeing and to an unfortunate degree. Its outline can hardly be broken without severe consequences. Our ‘leisure time’ is not truly a gift or luxury, but rather an indicator of what remains stolen. A greater amount each passing day.

I think about what I currently spend that increasingly valuable ‘free’ time on. Whether it is productive or not, never do I find myself wishing I had less of it, constrained or managed by an employer.

A blunt dispatch from Tuesday, the worst day of the week. For now, and until it matters no more.