After a recent lecture, someone in the audience asked if I was a workaholic.
“Yes,” I replied, without a hint of shame. “My name is Ellen Lupton, and I’m a workaholic.”
But wait a minute, why does our culture view productivity as pathology? Whatever happened to “healthy obsessions”?
So let me revise that. “I’m Ellen Lupton, and I’m a high-functioning workaholic.”
Now, some of my work-addicted sisters and brothers out there might think that all workaholics are capable members of society, but this is not the case. The signs listed below will help you distinguish those of us who have managed to keep our addiction from destroying ourselves and others from those of us who really have lost control.
| The High-Functioning Workaholic |
The Sloppy Workaholic |
| Views sleep as research: an opportunity to get ideas |
Views sleep as death: a movie trailer for the world’s longest coffee break |
| Starts early, like a farm woman |
Works all night, like a rocker hopped up on speed and frappucinos |
| Checks e-mail while watching TV |
Checks e-mail while driving on I-95 |
| Favors three-minute lunches |
Forgets to eat |
| Becomes a smoothly running machine as pressure rises |
Becomes a demented, vengeful bitch as pressure rises |
| Enjoys working during vacations |
Believes vacations should be prohibited under the Geneva Conventions |
| Is aware of deadlines, sell-by dates, and the next scheduled increase of U.S. postal rates |
Lacking any internal clock mechanism, is in a constant state of harried panic |
— Ellen Lupton · 2009-05-23
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THE BOOK