What's the point again?

At the end of the day, I am but human. I, too, grow old. I fall sick. I need rest. I need sleep. I need exercise. I need some fun. I need holidays. I need to make up for lost time with my family. I need space. I need peace. I need a life outside of work.

I can’t be expected to work like how I used to work 10 years ago. I have paid my dues. The late nights, the bags underneath my eyes with veins so red it looked like it was about to burst, the premature greying, the working over the weekends and holidays (if there were any), the constant worrying, the running around, the rushing – I did it all. All in the name of ‘career’. It’s not as if I got to where I am today without putting in real hard work. So don’t act as if I should be eternally grateful for what I have now. None of this was handed to me on a silver platter. I have sacrificed significant amounts of time and energy, at the expense of friends and family, to get to where I am today.

And it is still expected of me! It’s like every waking moment that I have I have to spend it on working. Why? Because I have nothing better to do in life? Because other people’s time are more precious than mine? Because I have targets to meet? Because I am being paid a salary? Why why why?

If the same is expected of everyone then I will not complain. But George Orwell was right – some people are more equal than others. Other people can go back at a decent hour every day, they are not expected to work weekends or whilst on holiday, they are given latitudes wider than the span of the Atlantic Ocean. And yet, they get the same benefits (if not more) than I do, so really, what’s the point of it all?

I am not a robot. If I am continued to be treated like one, I will break down due to over capacity and disintegrate. And I can rest assured that I will not be missed. On the contrary, I will be replaced by another unsuspecting robot.