No matter how eager unemployed people are to find a job and get back into wage-earning trenches, when the fortune smiles at them and after months (sometimes years) of looking they finally secure a position, they cannot avoid feeling nervous, anxious, and frequently depressed. The same unpleasantly uneasy state of mind comes over people who return to the full-time employment or undertake a long-term engagement after the semi-freedom of short-project consulting. Even if you went on hiatus to write a book and put your entire life on hold to do so, now that it's over, you fear of returning to the regular job.
Moreover, much smaller gaps in working schedule have exactly the same effect on us. It's difficult to come back from vacations and even weekends. It is an established fact that the number of heart attacks peaks on Mondays in comparison to other days of the week. And it has nothing to do with Monday per se – if we moved the beginning of the week to Wednesday, the statistic would shift as well.
This is true not only for the hired schmucks like us, subordinate to their bosses' rule. One of my former multi-millionaire owners/CEOs confessed to me that he passionately hated Sunday nights (me too!), because Monday mornings loom over them. There was nobody over him. He had an attitude of a royalty, did what he wanted, and his scope of responsibilities was considerably smaller than mine. Who would've thought that he felt about the end of the weekend exactly the way I did. I am sure all my readers who worked in private companies have owners who take long weekends and hide in their vacation houses for the entire summers. Why do they avoid being in the office?
What does it say about our relationship with the activity that we let to occupy the largest chunk of our lives? Do we experience these sensations because we resent our jobs and are unhappy with our existence? Does it happen only with those who made sensible choices in their lives in order to support themselves and their families? I know it's not possible for the majority of people, but would we be more relaxed if we pursued our dreams?
Apparently not. All real writers are terrified of the empty page. Stanley Kubrick, of course, pushed the issue to its scariest interpretation by showing in "The Shining" how the fear of the typewriter with a clean sheet of paper in it can turn a writer into a psychopath. Famous movie directors, including Ingmar Bergman, Michelangelo Antonioni, Woody Allen, and Martin Scorcese, consider being on the set a pure torture. Pro-athletes are ridden with OCDs (endlessly bouncing the tennis balls, or tagging their jerseys in a particular way, or counting the number of times they knock on their locker) and many of them puke their guts out before every game or match. Speaking of puking, after 48 years on stage and screen, Cher still vomits before every performance.
The list of examples is endless. I believe, it's not about the work itself or the workplace. I think our psyche, taught by the previous experiences, tries to protects itself from frustrations and stresses associated with every job. The anxiety and the nervousness are manifestations of the defensive instinct: "Don't go. There will be pain again. You will be judged unfairly. You will care too much for your own good."
I honestly think that the workaholics among us work through their weekends and vacations out of self-preservation. They know that if you slip up, stop for a second and relax, it becomes incredibly difficult to go back. The human beings are addicted to doing-nothing and avoiding pain, but resolve to stay on the occupational wagon in order to provide for themselves, realize their self-worth, or satisfy their urge for creative expression.
The Frustrated CFO 