Every once in awhile, some genius decides to start a conversation about “work life balance.” This makes me want to start a conversation about “the number of quacks in a banana” and by that I mean who invented this meaningless phrase?
Women, in particular, are a target of this pointless aspiration to create a balance — a state of equilibrium — between work and life.
Let’s start with work. By this, I have to assume we are talking about a set of tasks for which I will be compensated with actual money. Then, of course, there is life, which I’m guessing, means all the other stuff such as, drinking coffee, riding my bike or having a root canal.
Some of these things I want to do and some of them I do not.
I get paid to do stuff. Sometimes I like doing this stuff and sometimes I don’t. Most of the time, thankfully, my work gives me energy and engagement. Some days I would work, even if I won the lottery. And some days I wouldn’t want to help my kids get dressed, even if you paid me. In fact, can I please get fired?
Here is my point: A lot of life is work. And I don’t know what the fuck balance is, except something I lose if I’m not paying attention on the treadmill.
What women need is rest. We need permission to do nothing. Don’t have a bubble bath or go to the spa. Don’t read a book or take a class. Just sit there. Stare at the wall. Breath. Close your eyes. Ignore the person asking you to locate their shoe. That’s work. Right now you’re busy having some life.