I’m doing it all wrong.
Whereas the woman in front of me was consumed with activity the entire flight, I was completely idle.
It was a two-hour leg from Kansas City to Houston, during which I’d usually nap.
That’s what I do on most flights.
As soon as I feel the plane push back from the gate, I’m out.
And I remain so until the aircraft is established at cruising altitude.
Then I usually wake up and find something to read.
Or, I watch a couple of episodes of Beavis and Butthead or Curb Your Enthusiasm.
They’re my airplane go-tos.
This time, I decided to depart from my usual routine.
I was fascinated with this woman sitting across the aisle to my front-left.
From the moment she’d sat down, she had continuously cycled between her phone, iPad, and laptop, furiously scrolling and pushing buttons.
I had a clear view of everything she was doing.
Not that I was snooping.
Well, yes, I was snooping.
Because I was indeed curious.
I could not understand how someone could be that busy.
She opened numerous spreadsheets, added information to various cells, resorted columns and rows, and color-coded everything.
Then she’d switch to one of the twenty emails she had open.
She would cut and paste a portion of one of her spreadsheets into the open message and type a couple of densely worded paragraphs to accompany it.
The woman would then start a new email, insert other portions of other spreadsheets into it, and, again, pound out more commentary at about eighty words per minute.
This went on the entire time the plane was above ten thousand feet.
And then, upon our descent into Houston, after she’d put away her computer, she pulled out her phone and powered through three different crossword puzzles on some app.
I mean, it was incredible.
She was completely absorbed.
The time must have flown by for her.
Honestly, I was jealous.
I’ve long struggled with boredom.
But it wasn’t always that way.
Early in my Navy career, my time was consumed by myriad demands.
There was always something to do.
And I often felt there wasn’t enough time to do it all.
That was largely thanks to the fact I spent up to ten hours per day flying, getting ready to fly, or filling out paperwork after I’d flown.
Everything else had to be crammed into the remaining hours of the day, along with lingering in the wardroom after dinner to bullshit with friends, working out, and, of course, catching at least one movie.
The days were full.
Boredom was a foreign concept.
This continued through successive assignments.
As a result, I developed various productivity hacks to limit my activities to the Critical Few.
And I completely ignored everything else.
Which did not go unnoticed.
Some, who thought they had license to foist their agendas upon me, protested.
But I quickly learned that both the protestors, and the activity I was ignoring to invite their protests, were of absolutely no consequence.
I thus did myself, and my work, a great service by disregarding both.
It was liberating.
And I took this approach with me to the private sector.
Where it promptly failed me.
And that’s because I repeatedly landed in a Bullshit Job.
In such a role, aptly described by anthropologist David Graeber, all the inconsequential stuff I’d taught myself to ignore was the job.
By setting aside all the superfluous, non-important, non-value-additive activity, I had nothing left to do.
I mean, nothing.
And that came at a bad time:
The Great Recession.
I was in a large corporation, where butts-in-seats was of prime importance.
And so, to protect your livelihood, you put your butt in that seat and looked as busy as you could.
It didn’t really matter what you did, as long as you did something.
Like Bullshit.
Lots and lots of Bullshit.
Which caused me great emotional distress.
It still does.
I possess the skills and experience necessary to set my own priorities and optimize my own workflow.
I am loathe to waste my time and that of others.
But, as a survivor of The Great Recession, I have a need to be perceived as a person who spends adequate time with his butt in a seat looking busy.
If one is so wired, how does one resolve the cognitive dissonance to which the modern workplace gives rise?
What do you do?
I don’t know.
But I can tell you what not to do.
And that is to have an honest conversation with your boss about it.
That is absolutely the last thing you want to do.
See, you think you’re doing the organization a favor by suggesting to your superiors that perhaps your efforts could be channeled into more productive pursuits.
But what you’re actually doing is branding yourself as a self-absorbed malcontent who thinks he’s too good to do the work required of the role.
And then your name moves to the top of the boss’s People To Be Gotten Rid Of list.
So, no, you don’t want to attempt an honest conversation with your boss.
About anything, really.
But anyway.
The way to get ahead in a Bullshit Job is through prodigious amounts of activity, regardless of whether it accomplishes anything.
Now, it’s entirely possible the woman on the plane was doing real work.
Maybe she was on the cusp of curing the world of excessive foot odor, and all those spreadsheets and emails were critical to that effort.
But I doubt it.
Judging by her behavior, I assumed the woman on the plane to have a Bullshit Job.
And I certainly didn’t begrudge her for it.
Quite the contrary.
I applauded her for it.
She’d clearly cracked the code.
I mean, Look at her! I thought to myself.
She’s nailing it.
Sure, if I were to receive one of her ridiculous emails, I’d delete it without opening it.
But that’s just me.
I’m not out there striving.
I learned the folly of that a long time ago.
This woman would, no doubt, ascend to a higher wrung on the corporate ladder than I.
And I think we’d both be cool with that.
Unless, that is, she were to become my boss and expect that I create the same sort of meaningless, time-wasting churn that facilitated her own ascent.
Then we’d have problems.
In the meantime, we can happily coexist.
She can remain ferociously engaged, far beyond boredom’s grip.
And I can observe her and be both impressed and entertained.
Yeah, maybe I am doing it all wrong.
I should really do a better job of playing the game.
Like the lady on the plane.
I mean, why fight it?
Who do I think I am?
I’ll reflect on that.
And in the meantime,
What do you suppose Beavis and Butthead are up to today?
I should probably find out.