When Work No Longer Works

COVID causes a burned-out worker to reevaluate her priorities

Like millions of fellow Baby Boomers, I pulled the ripcord on retirement during the pandemic.

I’ve met with other retirees who were fortunate enough to keep their jobs and work from home during COVID. Some say the extra hours of sleep or additional opportunities for family togetherness led them to deeper insights into their life’s purpose and accelerated their retirement timeline.

Not for me. Truth is, working in healthcare during a worldwide pandemic was grinding. And while workers in other industries may have undergone a spiritual awakening, I just waved the white flag of surrender.

The First Whispers

Pre-COVID, I was privileged to hold a great job at a leading healthcare organization. Although I didn’t work directly with patients, I felt pride knowing my efforts supported the critical work of hospital physicians and caregivers.

I had already logged 35 successful years in my field of expertise, but I was still hungry for more. I relished challenges and enjoyed my team. I was proud of my identity as a leader, with all the benefits it provided.

But something kept niggling at me; something wasn’t right. Despite occasional dopamine hits of accomplishment, much of the work felt like running on a hamster wheel, spinning ever-faster to meet deadlines and deliverables.

Outside of work, my friends began easing into retirement. With a touch of amazement, I noticed their demeanors shift from stressed-out to laid-back, and their passports fill with stamps from pleasant lands. My financial advisor continued to reassure me I could turn in my laptop anytime. But I did the only thing I knew how to do: Keep on keeping on.

For my birthday, my daughter gave me a gag gift of a Retirement Countdown Clock. Amused, I set the alarm for a year out and tossed it into my desk drawer.

Enter the Pandemic

Just like that, bam. No more commute. No more socializing. No more daily Corporate Barbie dress-up.

It all meant more time, but the extra hours hardly went into jigsaw puzzles. Working in healthcare gave me a front-row seat to the unfolding daily horrors — the death counts, the ventilator shortages, the caregiver burnout, the deep loneliness, the alarming rates of suicide.

For my team, the result was a never-ending slate of new projects, piled atop the old.

Our hearts ached for our colleagues on the front lines. They were also stretched to the limit but didn’t have the luxury of hiding behind computer screens.

Knowing they were the real heroes only increased our resolve. This was a healthcare crisis, after all, and these were unprecedented times. Laying off the gas was not an option.

One day, smack in the middle of my fifth Zoom call, a beeping came from inside my drawer. My Retirement Countdown clock had just hit zero. No one on the call seemed to notice. I sighed and hit reset.

The Switch Flips

The pandemic dragged on, and our team continued its sad slog. Without the opportunity for spontaneous hallway chats, virtually every curiosity birthed a new Zoom call. Meetings flowed over the edges of the workday like water from a boiling pot.

To-do lists lengthened; the tsunami of emails reached new heights. Clearing the decks filled them up all the faster. Working both early and late became the new normal since days had no clear start or finish.

One night, toiling late into the evening on a critical, time-sensitive project, my mind wandered to all I’d been neglecting — my husband, my children, my health, my happiness. My in-laws were aging and needed help.

I wondered if my persistent attachment to productivity might be a sham — some sort of pyramid scheme designed specially for strivers.

In my pain and exhaustion, a switch flipped. That was it. I would no longer grasp for the hamster pellets of recognition and reward.

I reached into my drawer and reset my Retirement Calculator — this time for 30 days out. Then I opened a new email to my bosses (yes, I had a few) and began drafting my announcement to retire.

Adjusting to the New Normal

Ironically, it was an evil, spiky-balled cluster of genetic code — which cruelly stole the breath from millions of souls worldwide — that provided the impetus for me to take a breath, pause, and consider my real-life priorities.

My decision came just in time: within only five months, both my in-laws passed on. Had I not retired, I could not have spent precious last weeks with them.

I’m still adjusting to my new normal. But instead of a hamster cage, a much bigger playground is now mine to roam. Having time to think my own thoughts and do things at my own pace is a delicious pleasure — like nuzzling a sweet-smelling infant or feeling sunshine on my face.

Mercifully, there are signs COVID-19 may finally be ending. But there are still plenty of other predicaments vexing today’s workers.

Whether you’re a teacher micromanaged by overbearing parents, a police officer disrespected by the very ones you’re protecting, or just a striver tired of striving, use the gift that’s hidden inside all life’s challenges: the opportunity to pause.

Stopping to consider what you are really striving for is worth the effort…and will put you on the right path to your next big adventure.

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