I had to talk my dear friend off the ledge today. She suffers from a serious mental condition that lowers one’s desire to work, Tritus of Workitus. With her permission, I’m revealing her condition because I know many suffer in silence.

Years ago, once our children were in school all day, she and I were forced to go back to work. To our spouses it seemed like a perfect opportunity to fill the time previously spent on our children. Time now better spent bringing money into the household instead of the constant outpouring of funds for their entertainment. How inconsiderate. It didn’t take long, maybe only a few weeks before we suffered our first bouts of Tritus of Workitus.

Of course, everyone says, “Just pull yourself up by your bootstraps, you’ll be fine.” It doesn’t work like that. Suddenly, as working girls, we were being forced to comply with rules, boring jobs to do, answering to bosses and schedules to keep – none of which was of any interest to us. 

We muddled through it together, bemoaning our fate over wine glasses filled with clear liquids. We kept our condition in check, dreaming of the days when we could be bored again at our own leisurely pace.

I am currently in full remission from Tritus of Workitus due to Covid-19 and the lack of employment. Alas, my friend is not so lucky. After being quarantined for months, she had grown accustomed to a lifestyle that was enjoyable, comfortable not being part of the rat race.  

Then, out of the blue, she received the call requesting her to return to her job full time. Full time! She wasn’t even given the consideration of her mental condition to allow her to slide back into the work force slowly – part time at first. 

How do they expect her to start getting up at 7 AM when she’s been sleeping in until ten every morning? And be showered and dressed, well at least from the waist up. It just seemed like her employer was asking quite a lot.

Because of this job-related stress her Tritus of Workitus flared up. She tried reaching out to me for a support call. Sadly, I missed her call, because I was reading my current edition of People magazine out in the garden, while sipping a lovely gin and tonic for medicinal purposes.

At any given moment she may have to take a mental health day and go shopping, if only the malls were open, again. Although, it is possible that she’ll throw herself back into her job. She’ll enjoy what she does with only momentary lapses which occur usually on a warm afternoon.

I am sorry to say there is no cure to date. My advice is to stay the course. You can do this.  Work to get that last kid through college, pay off that overpriced SUV, or install those new hardwood floors you’ve been dreaming about. Then, in no time at all, with any luck, you will be asked to leave your job because of your poor work ethic.

Most importantly drink plenty of clear liquids.

Live with waffletude