There’s something vaguely comic about everyone trying to brag about how stressful their job is. Personally, I blame television. Shows like ER, The West Wing, and Scandal have glamorized the notion that killer jobs are friggin’ awesome and super-sexy. You know what’s really awesome? Doing your job so well that you can relax on a regular basis.
I had a job like that, once. I had it down to the point where I could do a day’s worth of stuff in about three hours, then spend the rest of it on the Internet until somebody needed me for something. And I felt precisely no guilt for it: my definition of “day’s worth of stuff” was carefully-calibrated to be better than the company’s by two standard deviations. And when the job got stressful, I did what you’re supposed to do in those cases and figured out how to make it less stressful. Admittedly, unique circumstances, but then they always are.
All in all, there’s a certain virtue in thoughtful laziness. Efficient laziness. Sensible laziness…