Ask someone how they’re doing, and there’s a 97% chance they’ll respond with the same word: “Busy.”
Not “good.” Not “fine.” Not even “tired” or “stressed.” Just busy. As if being busy is a state of being, an identity, a badge of honor we’re all competing to wear.
Congratulations. You’ve successfully turned your inability to manage time into a humble-brag.
The Busy Olympics
We’ve created an entire competitive sport around who has less free time. It’s like the Suffering Olympics, except instead of medals, the prize is… what, exactly? A heart attack at 45? A prescription for anxiety medication? The respect of other people who are also too busy to actually spend time with you?
“How’s your week?”
“Crazy busy. Back-to-back meetings all day, then I have to finish that report, and my kid has soccer practice, and I haven’t slept in three days.”
Cool story, Jennifer. You want a trophy or a nap? Because it sounds like you need the nap.
But you won’t take the nap. Taking a nap would mean admitting you have free time, and having free time is apparently the modern equivalent of admitting you’re unemployed and purposeless.
The Performance Art of Hustling
Social media has made this infinitely worse. Everyone’s posting about their “grind,” their “hustle,” their 4 AM wake-up calls and their seventeen side projects. You’re not allowed to just have a job anymore. You need a job, a side hustle, a passion project, a podcast nobody listens to, and an Etsy shop selling candles you made once.
“Sleep when you’re dead,” they say, as if dying exhausted and unfulfilled is somehow inspirational.
Meanwhile, the people actually getting ahead? They’re sleeping eight hours, delegating tasks, and definitely not posting LinkedIn updates about their hustle at 11 PM. But we don’t talk about that because it ruins the narrative.
The Email Theater
Let’s talk about work emails sent at 9:47 PM. You know the ones. Your coworker sends you a message at nearly 10 PM with “Just following up on this!” as if following up on a non-urgent matter at an inappropriate hour is somehow professional and not just weird.
Here’s the truth: They either (a) wrote it during normal hours and scheduled it to send late to look dedicated, or (b) actually have such poor boundaries that they’re doing work emails after dinner. Neither option is impressive.
And yet we’ve all done it. We’ve all sent that late-night email hoping someone notices our dedication. We’re performing busyness for an audience that’s too busy performing their own busyness to care about ours.
The Calendar Flex
“Let me check my calendar.”
Opens calendar that’s color-coded like a rainbow threw up on it.
“I’m completely booked this week. And next week. Actually, I’m booked until March.”
Are you though? Or do you just block off time for things like “lunch” and “emails” and “strategic thinking” because having white space on your calendar feels like admitting you’re not important?
We’ve gamified our schedules. The fuller your calendar, the more valuable you must be. Never mind that half those meetings could’ve been emails, and the other half are meetings about meetings. You’re BUSY. That’s what matters.
The Martyr Complex
The worst part is how we wear exhaustion like a badge of honor. We compete over who got less sleep. Who worked more hours. Who hasn’t taken a vacation in longer.
“I haven’t had a day off in six months.”
That’s not admirable, Kevin. That’s called poor life choices. You’re not a hero; you’re just bad at setting boundaries.
But we can’t admit that, because admitting we’re overwhelmed means admitting we’re not superhuman. And in a culture that worships productivity, being anything less than superhuman feels like failure.
The Productivity Paradox
Here’s the kicker: Most of us aren’t actually that busy. We’re just really, really bad at focusing.
We have meetings we don’t need to attend. We check our phones 96 times a day. We respond to Slack messages immediately because we’re afraid of seeming unresponsive, even though the message is just Dave asking if anyone wants to grab coffee.
We’ve confused “being busy” with “being productive.” They’re not the same thing. Being busy is running on a hamster wheel. Being productive is actually going somewhere.
But going somewhere requires admitting where you’re trying to go, and that requires thought, and thinking requires stopping, and stopping means you’re not busy, and not being busy means you might have to confront whether you actually like your life or you’re just distracting yourself from it with artificial chaos.
Too dark? Too bad. We’re already here.
The FOMO Effect
Part of this is FOMO. We’re terrified that if we slow down, we’ll miss something. An opportunity. A promotion. That one email that could change everything.
Spoiler alert: That email isn’t coming. And if it does, it’ll still be there in the morning after you’ve slept like a normal human being.
But we can’t help ourselves. We’ve been conditioned to believe that rest is lazy, that downtime is wasted time, that if we’re not constantly moving forward we’re falling behind.
Behind who? Behind what? We don’t know. We just know we can’t stop.
The Uncomfortable Truth
The reality nobody wants to admit: We like being busy. It gives us an excuse. An excuse for why we don’t exercise, don’t call our friends, don’t pursue hobbies, don’t deal with our problems.
“I’d love to, but I’m just so busy right now.”
It’s the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card. Can’t make it to the wedding? Too busy. Haven’t called your mom? Too busy. Haven’t figured out what you want to do with your life? Can’t think about it—too busy.
Being busy means never having to confront the fact that maybe you’re just avoiding the things that actually matter because they’re hard and uncomfortable and don’t come with the immediate validation of crossing something off a to-do list.
The Solution Nobody Will Follow
Want to know the secret? Stop. Just stop.
Stop saying you’re busy when someone asks how you are. Stop scheduling every minute of your day. Stop wearing exhaustion like it’s an achievement. Stop competing in the Suffering Olympics.
Start saying no to things that don’t matter. Start protecting your time like it’s valuable—because it is. Start admitting that rest isn’t optional, it’s necessary.
But you won’t. None of us will. Because next week when someone asks how we’re doing, we’ll take a deep breath, let out an exhausted sigh, and say the magic word:
“Busy.”
And the performance continues.