F*ck Working Long Hours Only to Take Home a Peanut Salary

I came into the office, white as a ghost at 4 am.

No BS.

I had the flu, bad. I figured if I went to work early to do my paperwork I could exit before anyone came in. So I did.

On a cold winter’s morning I drove my piece of crap Holden Astra (not mine, actually, it was gifted to me when I lost everything) to the city.

The streets were dead. I had a tissue box in my hand. My nose had a snot waterfall gushing out of it. The jumper I wore had visible vomit stains.

There’s something about the calmness of early morning. That was perhaps the only advantage of doing this stupid work act.

I got to reception, swiped my corporate prison card and said hello to security, who were wondering why I was in so early (my employer was a bank so they probably thought I came to rob it).

As the elevator hit the 26th floor I got out. I expected nobody to be in. A light was on. Some other smart ass had got to work before me. He looked like he hadn’t seen the inside of his home in years.

No wedding ring, figures. I later found out he was already divorced and hadn’t seen his kids since his wife threw his stuff out on the curb.

Nothing more to lose, I guess.

Oh, and he did cheat on her one night at a bank ball. No surprise there.

I placed my laptop on the desk. I got started on the finance applications that needed to be reviewed for my biggest client.

Like a good little corporate employee, I emailed the customer with a pretend update so they could see what time I started work and tell my boss.

That’s what you do to survive in this dog-eat-dog world, I tell ya.

Time flew by. Three hours later the applications were done. I felt worse. I thought I was going to pass out. Wouldn’t be the first time.

I slowly walked towards the elevator. It was too late. The onslaught of early morning do-gooders in perfectly dry cleaned suits with freshly flossed teeth had arrived.

“You don’t look good Timbo. You okay, mate?

“All good, just heading home as I’ve been in since 4 am.” (Another way to gently brag to hopefully get a promotion later and some extra coin.)

I’ve never felt so sick in my life.

I went home and it got worse. At the time, I got paid just above minimum wage. I worked long hours to take home a peanut salary that didn’t go up no matter how hard I worked.

All I ever got was a promise of a future raise or promotion.

But you can’t pay bills on promises — or plan a future life with your wife.

 
Working hard smells like deep insecurity

Nobody gave a crap about me back then. Least of all, me.

My entire life was a mess.

I didn’t know my head from my ass.

I had zero confidence because everything I’d ever known disappeared after my many startup blowups, which set me back 10 years in my career.

Working hard was the fake hero mask I wore.

What I wanted was attention. I wanted someone to give a damn about me. What I really wanted was help. I wanted someone to rescue me. I wanted a career lifeguard to throw me some floaties so I could swim through life again.

Working hard wasn’t worth it.

So I stopped working hard and started taking care of myself.

Within a few years I had learned about finance from books I read on Kindle. I’d made a few small investments. Then I had one or two side hustles. They were doing well, too.

I took the anxiety from my insecurities and channeled it into learning public speaking at a Toastmasters club.

Insecurity became confidence. But only when I stopped doing donkey work.

 
Working hard to fit in is total BS

Bro culture idolizes working hard. It’s what the hardcores do.

When these weirdos are not watching touchdowns at the football on a Sunday, they’re bringing this immature sports behavior to the office.

Hours worked equals goals kicked.

*Shakes head*

Sports behavior should be banned at the office. It leads people to work hard to earn the same amount of money.

 
Working hard is giving up on life

It’s refusing to find another way.

If you have internet you’re filthy rich — read that again.

If you don’t then you’re excused. There are thousands of ways to use money to make money or make passive income online. You don’t need to settle for just a salary. You can have a salary plus additional online income.

 
Working hard equals not controlling expenses

Some don’t work hard because they need more money. Some work hard because they can’t keep their expenses in line.

They keep seeing shiny toys. They keep buying them. They agree to a financial plan. Then they go to the shopping mall and spend all their salary.

Every dollar you spend requires you to give up more time to earn more money. Dollars are minutes. Soon, thanks to inflation, dollars will be seconds.

 
Working hard is “I can’t stand to be alone”

We all have unresolved issues.

Working hard can become a drug you take so you don’t need to feel anymore. Working hard makes your mind full so you don’t have time to be mindful.

Life gets better when you sit alone and notice how you feel.

 
Working smarter punches working hard in the face

Working hard is lazy. There, I said it.

We all know what working smarter is. You know, taking more breaks, resetting your brain with family time, eating healthy to have more energy — just taking care of yourself.

The lowest form of intelligence is working hard.

You’ll work yourself into the ground. Trust me, you’re hearing from a former Captain Stupid here.

 
Bottom line

Stop working so f*cking hard.

The real money is made when you stop and think about what matters. When you do, you realize working hard is for dumbasses.

Take the hours you waste working hard at work and channel them into a side hustle you give a damn about. It’ll pay 10x more than a peanut salary will.

That’s how to succeed in life and chillax the heck out.

​Tim Denning

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