In Defense of Laziness
Yesterday, I subjected myself to reading (yet another) article about lazy millennials in my local newspaper.
I come across articles like this so often that I rarely feel the need to respond in any way — and besides, there’s already so much data out there showing how much time millennials actually spend working that it’s all just lazy journalism.
But my mother happened to read the same article, so we got into a fairly heated discussion over it — despite the fact that we were on the same side.
I just enjoy a good rant, okay? Complete with flailing hands and enough swearing to get my frustration across without totally offending my mom.
My first instinct was to defend my generation — I mean, we do work fucking hard. We literally have no choice.
Just look at the rising costs of rent, healthcare, homeownership, and college, and then compare that to what most of us are getting paid. But honestly, I don’t need to rehash all of this.
And I’ve been the girl balancing odd jobs. The girl finishing up college assignments in the break room at work. The girl working 50 hours a week at one job and still picking up part time hours at another.
Like so many others of my generation, I do work hard. I have since I had to get my first job at 14. I’m proud of that.
But as I was arguing this point with my mom, I took another look at the article.
One of the business owners interviewed got specific about which employees he considered lazy (without naming names, of course). One had taken off a weekend to go to a music festival. Another left for a week to visit Paris with their dad. And another said they wouldn’t be available for the last week of August because they were spending time with their family before going back to college.
Oh, God! The audacity!
How dare a twenty-year-old student in a minimum wage job save up their paychecks and spend three days seeing their favorite bands live? Or go on a dream vacation with their dad? Or spend a few nights having dinner with their family rather than slaving away in the back of a kitchen cooking dinner for strangers?
Kids these days, I tell you. Always trying to do dumb shit like enjoy the one life you get on this planet.
I mean, if that’s laziness, sign me up.
I don’t mean, like, not showing up to your shift on time, calling out at the last minute, or bumming around on the job when you should be helping your coworkers.
But come on. Taking a few days off to do something fun and meaningful — something that you probably had to save up for months to be able to do — is now considered so unbelievably lazy that it deserves an op-ed in the paper?
Look, the point is, plenty of us saw our parents bust their asses their whole lives only to take a major hit in the recession and never quite recover. We’re the first generation to have a lower life expectancy than our parents. Many of us are drowning in student loans. We’re working jobs that don’t provide benefits. We’re juggling different freelance gigs.
Who knows what the climate change situation will be like in a few decades? I’m not exactly eager to find out. Honestly, I’m unsure if I’ll ever be able to buy a home, or even retire. And although I love being a writer, and I know that I’ll never stop, I still don’t want to be chained to my laptop until I die.
So, yea, sometimes I want to take a few days off to chill out and give my body and brain a rest. Ugh, sue me.
I think I went into this piece with the idea that it would be some lighthearted essay about, like, balancing work and relaxing. Guess not. Oops. Sorry if things got a little dark there, but bear with me.
This idea that we should be spending every hour of our lives working or being productive in some way — especially if it involves doing the dirty work to prop up someone else’s business — is just…boring to me, at this point.
I understand that some people have no choice. Sometimes this is due to economic necessity, and sometimes it’s because you’ve got to put in extra hours to take the next step in your career, whatever that may be.
But if you do have a choice? Why not fucking take off and go to Paris?
Sometimes, hard work pays off. Sometimes it doesn’t. I’ve met people who regret working as hard as they did. An acquaintance of my dad’s used to work 100 hour weeks on a regular basis. After he retired, he said that all he wanted to do was see his family, and that he felt like he had basically sent himself to jail all those years.
Yup, his exact words.
A dramatic example? Sure.
But to be honest…I’ve never met anyone who regretted spending more time with their family, or taking a couple days off to travel every once in a while, or going to see their favorite band play live, or any of the other awesome things that make life worth living that I’ve seen written off as “laziness.”
So I fully intend on holding some time and space for sheer laziness in my life. I don’t live to work. I work to live. And I try to prioritize work that already feels fulfilling and meaningful — work that doesn’t “feel like work.”
Our generation hasn’t exactly been dealt the best hand. So I believe we fully deserve to enjoy ourselves. To make that most of that hand we’ve been dealt. And if that involves allowing ourselves to be lazy once in a while? Be my guest.
