MARRIED TO THE JOB

by Camerin Courtney
August 25, 2004

http://www.christianitytoday.com/singles/newsletter/mind40825.html

I'm having an affair with Jean-Luc. No, not some beret-wearing, cheese-loving French guy (I wish!). No, I'm talking about Jean-Luc, my laptop computer.

I realize this as I'm sitting here writing this column on said paramour while a perfectly fabulous day awaits just feet outside the coffee shop window beside me. I also realized this when Jean-Luc and I walked through the door and the barrista behind the counter started preparing my drink before I even had a chance to utter my high maintenance half-caf, skim, no-whip hazelnut baccio. Obviously our presence here is nothing new.

The people at the quaint little bistro tables around me are chatting happily, as normal people do on weekend days. A woman just entered with a library book to read. Then there's me, working away. Again. Still.

I can argue that I have a column to write and other freelance projects to complete, that writing is in some ways "home" to me. But when I'm really honest, I admit I've been spending way too much time with Jean-Luc of late. And way too much time at work. I'm usually there until 6:30p.m., and closing time's 4:30p.m. I'm becoming a bit of a workaholic.

This is nothing new in our overworked, prove-your-worth-by-how-busy-you-are culture. But when I recently recognized the relationship between my singleness and my workaholism, I knew something needed to change.

I walked out of work around 7p.m. and realized the only other two cars in the parking lot belonged to fellow single people. Telling, no?

Sure, we have more flexibility to stay late and get things done. And yes, I sometimes get my second wind about ten minutes before quitting time. But, again, when I'm honest, I also admit that sometimes I don't go home as early as I should not because there's so much work to do, but because no one's waiting there for me.

At work I have community and roles to fill; someone notices when I complete a task (or don't!). In contrast, at home I have solitude and purely self-motivation for projects that must be completed. No one notices when I pay the bills or clean my bathroom. My pet parakeet doesn't even chirp his appreciation.

And sometimes, needed downtime in the evenings simply seems lonely. Since I live alone, there's no built-in community when I go home. Company can be hard to come by as everyone else is just as crazy-busy. And in reality, sometimes I don't even want much interaction, just someone else's presence. Even just a friend sitting across the room while we each read our respective novels, or a romantic interest whose lap I can rest my feet in while we silently watch TV together.

Regardless of how much interaction we want with others, or how we want to enjoy or fill our time off, it takes something I often forget: intentionality. Ironically, I was reminded of this recently when I was reeling from a breakup. I was brokenhearted and having a hard time being alone, so I called up just about everyone I know to schedule lunches, dinners, evening coffee runs. Though we were talking through tough emotions part of the time, part of me simply enjoyed the constant community. I had a different sense of peace and connectedness that week.

This wasn't necessarily a new concept, just a wake-up call that I'd gotten lazy of late and had allowed work to become a key part of my community. My mistress, if you will. (Is there a male version of mistress? Perhaps "pool boy"?)

I know I'm not alone in this singleness workaholism struggle. Just the other day, a single friend told me he realized he'd been working too much of late and was trying to strike a new healthier balance between work and play. And when I went in search of stats about singles and workaholism, I stumbled on this quote from author Richard Gosse, "Workaholism is a frequent problem among single people. Work enables you to escape the fear, loneliness, and boredom that often plague singles." Ouch!

When I look at my work patterns of late, I realize this is exactly what I've been doing—escaping some evening loneliness and boredom by staying at work later and later. Sure, the pattern started when our staff experienced a recent crunch time. But, I have to admit, it's partly continued out of laziness and escapism. And sure, there are much worse things to fill our downtime with than too much work. But I wonder if sometimes God wants to meet us in those silent moments we're often quick to fill with work, or any other number of distractions. Or maybe that awkward evening time is just the motivation we need to seek out a new ministry pursuit, friendship, or extended prayer time.

The funny thing is, I fell into this overwork pattern so subtly and since no one sees and holds me accountable for my daily comings and goings, I didn't even realize what I was doing. That is, until it recently dawned on me that I'm now on a first-name basis with our company's nighttime janitor.

But here I am working again—and on a beautiful weekend day. A family just drove up on their bicycles and have wandered in for some gelatto. A mother and daughter just walked by on a leisurely stroll.

That does it! I'm packing up Jean-Luc, retrieving from my car one of the novels I've been reading lately, and heading to the park down the street. And later I think I'll call a friend and see if she wants to go for a walk.

Jean-Luc might get a little miffed that I'm standing him up for non-electronic friends. But I think he always knew I'd eventually pull the plug on our relationship.