What We Kill Ourselves Over

Here I am, blogging at 1 am. I’m really not blogging. This is called procrastinating.

I should be writing a 20-page ebook about something that has nothing to do with medicine.

Before that, I really should be creating exam questions. 10 items on a topic which I gave for the first time ever, in a subject I’ve never taught before. 10 more items on a topic I’ve never lectured on which I haven’t fully read up on.

It’s 1 am. I’ve only slept 5 hours since Sunday morning.

So much work. Why do we do this to ourselves?

Is it just for the money; the day to day grind that we need to undertake so we can expect to put something in our wallets every 2 weeks or so?

Is it prestige, that we may be known for some minuscule achievement at the workplace, at home, or within our social circles?

Is it some altruistic, suicidal sense of responsibility; something that is separated from a pathologic workaholism by a very thin line?

If you’re reading this and you figure it out, please let me know. I’ll still be up.