The Productivity Trap (And Why We Secretly Want to Fake the Flu)

The other day, as I mindlessly scrolled through Facebook (which I swear was just for five minutes, but then somehow an hour disappeared—Facebook time is not real time), I saw an ad that stopped me cold.

It asked:

"Have you ever wished for a minor accident or illness—not serious, just enough to stay in bed for a few days and rest?"

My immediate, gut reaction? Absolutely, yes.

And apparently, I wasn’t alone. The comments were a chorus of, “Oh my gosh, YES!” and “All the time.” and “Where do I sign up for a light, non-life-threatening illness that involves tea, naps, and binge-watching detective shows?”

Wait. Hold on. When did we, as a society, reach the point where the dream of self-care involves a medically justified break from life? When did we go from "Omg, I hope I never get sick" to "Look, I don’t want anything permanent, but if the universe wanted to drop a mild, fever-free flu on me, I wouldn’t fight it”?

Welcome to the Productivity Cult

Somewhere along the way, we traded in our humanity for hustle. We stopped measuring our worth by how we feel and started measuring it by how much we can get done in a single day. And let’s be honest—if you finish everything on your to-do list, your reward isn’t rest. No, no. Your reward is a bigger to-do list because now you’re “so capable” that you can “handle more.” Congratulations, you played yourself.

Productivity has become the new moral compass. You’re not tired because you’ve been juggling 500 things—no, no, you just need better time management. You don’t need rest, you need a morning routine optimized for peak efficiency. You don’t need a break, you need a standing desk, blue light glasses, and three different types of planners.

And God forbid you sit down to do absolutely nothing. What are you doing? Why are you sitting? Are you okay? Do you need a hobby? Have you considered monetizing that hobby?

How Did We Get Here?

I suspect it started with the Industrial Revolution, but I don’t have time to go that far back because I have deadlines. So let’s fast forward.

The internet promised us convenience. It was supposed to make life easier, free up time. But instead, it turned into a 24/7 hamster wheel of infinite possibility where if you’re not learning a new skill, working on a side hustle, or optimizing your grocery shopping routine, you are simply not living to your full potential.

And here’s the thing—we don’t even like it! That’s why we daydream about a “light sprain” that gets us three guilt-free days of lounging.

So What’s the Solution?

It’s time we, as a society, stage an intervention. For ourselves. With snacks.

We need to normalize rest without guilt. We need to reclaim our right to be unproductive sometimes. Not because we’re sick. Not because we’ve “earned” it. But because it’s okay to just exist.

Imagine a world where you could say, “I’m taking a day off” without following it up with an elaborate explanation that involves a fake dentist appointment, a dog emergency, and a suspiciously vague “personal issue.”

Imagine waking up, looking at your to-do list, and saying, “Nope. Not today.” Without feeling like you’re personally responsible for the collapse of society.

Maybe we start small. A nap here. An afternoon spent staring at clouds without wondering if that cloud could be turned into a productivity metaphor. A full day off where we don’t apologize for it.

Because if we don’t? Well. Then I’ll see you all in the comments section of the next “minor illness vacation” ad.

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The question comes up all the time. It’s inevitable. Like taxes. Or discovering that you’ve been walking around with spinach in your teeth all day. "Who’s your favorite character?" And I should have a definitive answer, right? Like, boom—here’s my favorite! Neatly tied up, no hesitation, no emotional turmoil, no staring off into the middle distance questioning my life choices. But no. That is not how this works. That is not how any of this works. My knee-jerk reaction is always Pixie . Pixie, my telepathic, sass-infused, magical Papillon from the Magical Papillon Mysteries . How could I not pick her? She’s got it all—wit, charm, fluffy ears, and, most importantly, magic. I mean, who wouldn’t want a touch of magic? I can barely find my car keys half the time. Pixie would just twitch an ear, and boom—problem solved. And she’s funny. Not just “accidentally amusing” funny. No, she’s deliberately funny. She says the things we all wish we could say, with perfect comed...

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