Work Ethic vs. Chronic Stress
Once Upon A Time
When I was twenty years old, I met a woman I thought was the love of my life. She was moving to San Francisco, so, of course, I chased her there. After a few months, it became clear that this love made in heaven wasn’t meant to be, so I found myself on the street, staying with friends, and trying to figure out how to make money just to live.
For a brief period, I was so poor that all I could afford to eat was potatoes and nineteen-cent boxes of macaroni and cheese. Sometimes, if I wanted a gourmet meal, I’d buy butter for the potato.
Zero Hirable Skills
I had no real hirable skills, but I realized that Californians assume that if you’re from Texas, you know how to swing a hammer. So, I went to the hardware store, bought a hammer and a nail belt, and went to construction sites in Palo Alto and Los Altos Hills south of San Francisco to ask if they needed help. I was a burly, bearded dude who wore flannel shirts, so I looked the part, even though I had no experience building anything but a doghouse (which I did as a boy).
Clueless
Eventually, a small construction company that flipped homes hired me. They were starting a new job, and my first project was building some sawhorses. The foreman showed me a stack of wood I could use, pointed to some tools, and left me to do my work. At the end of the day, the foreman walked by; I hadn’t finished even the first sawhorse. I put up some lights so that I could work at night, and he left me alone to keep working. When he showed up the next morning, I was already there, working on sawhorse number two.
I’m sure an experienced carpenter would have knocked them both out in less than thirty minutes, but I wasn’t used to using a square and cutting angles for the legs, etc. I was clueless. The next day, the foreman gave me a few more tasks along with finishing the sawhorses. As he was leaving, I was still there with the lights on, determined to finish those damn sawhorses.
The next morning he showed up at the crack of dawn, and guess who was there working down the task list at a snail’s pace? Me. He walked over, stopped and stared at me for a second, and gave me the come-hither move with his finger. He pointed toward his makeshift office on the jobsite. I was 100% confident I was about to get fired.
Hard Work
We sat down and he said, “I didn’t think to ask you if you had done this before, but I’m assuming you have not.” He then said, “But I don’t see too many people with your kind of work ethic, so if you’re willing to keep working hard, I’ll let you stay, and you can learn as you go.”
“Never give up and never say die” has always been my mantra at work. My work ethic has allowed me to get away with not being as smart or as educated or even as privileged as some of my competitors. There’s no doubt in my mind that, from the day I was swinging a hammer as a handyman to the years I spent leading global companies, my work ethic has provided me with an advantage.
Never give up and never say die.
Chronic Workplace Stress
But what is the price paid for hard work? I recently saw an article about how workplace burnout was, for the first time, classified as an occupational phenomenon by the World Health Organization. According to the WHO, “burn-out is a syndrome conceptualized as resulting from chronic workplace stress that has not been successfully managed.”
Never give up and never say die.
Chronic Workplace Stress
But what is the price paid for hard work? I recently saw an article about how workplace burnout was, for the first time, classified as an occupational phenomenon by the World Health Organization. According to the WHO, “burn-out is a syndrome conceptualized as resulting from chronic workplace stress that has not been successfully managed.”