Burnout in journalism

We mercenaries don't experience burnout. Not collecting unemployment keeps me motivated. Do whatever you have to do as long as the checks keep cashing, my journo Yoda taught me.

 

I've actually met some people who act the same IRL as they do on Twitter: screeching about this and that, loud, annoying. They're not pleasant at parties.

Isn't that any job?

 

We entered a world where people feel you need to know their opinion on everything, at all times, under all circumstances. Twitter had no small part in creating that.

 

No.

 

And where people think they know you, and your opinions, on everything, based on single or specific posts, with no accounting for gray areas, nuances, things not included, etc.

 

Write Thinking-

I read the other day Facebook is thinking of tweaking its 'like' system - some gibberish about subjecting those to undue peer pressure.

 

Such as?

 

You’ve never met someone who loves going to work every day because they actually enjoy working at a place that treats its employees well?

 

*Burnout isn’t a prize to be earned through the proper amount or kind of suffering.*

Preach, brother @dixiehack. Preach.

 

What companies even treat their employees well?

 

I could stand to make more at the non-journalism company I’m at. But they do their best to be considerate of us, starting with quality, decently-priced health insurance. When profits came in lower than expected last year due to pandemic, they not only didn’t have layoffs but restructured the year end bonus pool to keep the worker bees as close to intact as possible while upper management absorbed more of the blow. I have a lot of respect for that.

 

Some won't. I learned pretty quickly there were the same mixes of good people and superannuated mean girls (some of whom were boys) in pro sports as I'd encountered in public service/poverty legal outreach.

Nope. My first gig in my current field was at a medical model psych facility. It was a combination of the happiness at seeing someone fight their way to something within sight of well and days when I'd sit in my car for thirty minutes or more and cry before I drove home. I wouldn't trade that for anything but there is a reason you rarely see anyone over 35 at that level of training and engagement.

Some probably do. I stay where I am because my immediate supervisors/ treatment team people are great. Upper management is responsive. The pay is Mumbai call center awful and being part of the mental health end of an entertainment for-profit has taken a toll over the past few years. Would I go back to putting on business attire every time someone laces up or presents a giant check? As much as I love sports, gotta say no. I'd rather spec an article when I'm moved to write about something that inspires me to put words on paper.

Someone got into one of those punch-drunk swinging matches in a conversation on Facebook with a half-dozen people and told me she KNEW I wouldn't dare say anything critical of Obama even five years after the fact. She KNEW me!

Okay, we'd been connected on Twitter, "friends" on Facebook and run across each other on a couple of message boards. Did she know me? No. And she did this when my patience was running thin. I took a deep breath and answered her. Yes. We were acquainted, but no, she did not KNOW me. I did not recall exchanging emails or messages with her, much less my thoughts about politics. What she saw of me online was pretty minimal as far as I knew. Where did she get the idea she KNEW me?

At the time, I had almost 2K friends on Facebook. I think it's somewhere around 72, 73 now and I would be comfortable cutting that number in half. Maybe I'm old and don't get it.