A familiar twitch started behind my left eye, the kind that usually foreshadows a migraine, as the subject line flashed across my screen: ‘Don’t Forget to Take a Break!’ It was 7 PM. The blue light from the monitor cast a pallor over my face, reflecting the growing weariness I felt. My manager’s email signature, just a few lines below the cheerful automated reminder, proudly declared “Sent at 11 PM.” The stark irony felt like a physical blow, a punch to the gut after what had been, by any reasonable measure, a 60-hour workweek. It was the latest in a series of contradictions that had become so normalized, so ingrained in the corporate lexicon, that few even batted an eye anymore.
Days later, the company hosted its much-anticipated “wellness webinar.” The irony deepened, congealing into a heavy, unshakeable dread. We were given tips on mindful breathing, offered discounted subscriptions to meditation apps, and advised on the importance of “detaching” after work hours. All this, while the very structures of our work demanded relentless output, punishing long hours, and a constant, low-level hum of anxiety that never truly dissipated. It wasn’t just my company; this pattern is disturbingly common, a global phenomenon that seems to accelerate with each passing quarter. We talk about burnout while actively, enthusiastically, building its foundations brick by exhausting brick, laying down the
