I have a special treat for you today, a guest post from the hubster! Amongst his many positive characteristics are intelligence, wit, diligence and yet he claims to be incredibly lazy. Can laziness and hard work live together in perfect harmony? Read on to find out.
Here are his confessions of a selectaholic:
I am a diligent, conscientious and hardworking man who also happens to be epically lazy. As contradictory as it sounds I’m willing to bet there are millions more like me out there, (though I can’t be bothered to do the research).
I’m enormously fortunate to have a career which requires a degree of creative thinking. That’s what floats my boat and to every creative task I apply myself wholeheartedly. Meanwhile the tough stuff mounts up. Not just the paperwork; no-one tackles time sheets and expenses claims with relish.
But it’s the conflict resolution, the difficult client conversations, the new business prospecting. These are the tasks which stretch and intimidate me. I do them all, but frequently it’s a little too late, a little too hesitant, a little too underpowered.
Yet my colleagues would describe me as driven. I’m at my desk by 7am most days and I work fast and furious. I set high standards for myself, yet too often I allow middling quality work to pass, rather than deal with the complexity and conflict involved in demanding better.
I’m at my most effective when working as a lone wolf. With no delegation, no quality control and no resource allocation to worry about, I can focus on the task at hand. But it means that the limit of my productivity is constrained by the time and energy available to one man.
My laziness is chronic. And so is my drive. I sweat the Me stuff but only the Me stuff. The rest gets done, eventually, half-heartedly and with mediocre results.
I’m a Selectaholic. I’m driven to succeed in the tasks which interest me and constantly prioritise them over my other responsibilities. Right now I should be sorting the home insurance but this is more fun.
Selectahol is dangerous (14 units a week max). In the post-industrial age we are expected to be pan-competent. The division of labour is over. We are all General Managers now.
My selectaholism extends to my home life. I can be a selectaholic parent, throwing myself into philosophical debate with one son to stretch his critical thinking abilities, but supervising the other’s homework with half an eye on the football.
So what should I do? There are no anonymous support groups for people with my kind of half-hearted affliction and if there were, I’d be too lazy to attend. I don’t think the answer is to re-imagine my life because, whatever its configuration, there will always be some tasks which motivate me and others which do not.
I guess I should be grateful that, thanks to my own creative faculties, there is now a label for my affliction, which means it’s not my fault. The question is, am I prepared to go cold turkey any time soon?
Do you share his affliction? I know I do – soul mates you see. You know the drill – please comment below if you want to join in the conversation!
Much love, Vx (and the hubster)