For decades, I've been trained to optimize my thinking in terms of numbers. I've been pushed to be more productive, and enjoyed being more productive, which in turn led to searchers on how to be even more productive. I've accomplished things and felt good about it, motivating myself to accomplish more things.

But I've always been quite bad at stopping and reflecting back on the accomplished thing. I rarely compliment myself, I usually think the things achieved are nothing special, and I keep my eyes focused on the future, where more things need to be produced, optimized, and accomplished. There's barely time left to breathe, let alone pat myself on the back: that time is better spend doing more stuff.

Yet sometimes, I suffer from what you might call achievement fatigue: I question my motives, I ask myself what the hell I'm doing or supposed to be doing, and sometimes, I cut myself some slack. I'm clearly over-exaggerating here to make the point come across: I'm not a workaholic---far from it. I detest working after 5 PM (nowadays even 4 PM is a stretch) or working more than 38 hours a week (nowadays even 30 hours is a stretch). I have that luxury precisely because I trained myself to be highly efficient and productive. I publish more by doing less.

Yet sometimes, I suffer from what you might call achievement fatigue: I question why I publish, what I'm supposed to be publishing instead, and why I keep track of the things I've achieved. On the one hand, I'm proud of myself for having done the things I did, but on the other hand, one voice in my head says it's nothing special (it really isn't---see?) and I should get off my ass to do more.

I shouldn't be too hard for myself, as in modern society, it's very very hard to get out of the achievement loop. Every single thing we come into contact with every single day subconsciously pushed everyone to achieve more: from the mundane clock that is ticking to job descriptions, superficial conversations about job descriptions on cocktail parties, any news article on any website, newspaper, or TV station, every single ad that gets shoved down our throats, ...

I've been in teams where going home at 4:30 PM is being frowned upon, even though the obligatory eight hours of sitting behind a computer for that day were thankfully over: it somehow is cool to compete with colleagues in the battle for the best workaholic. It's not cool if you've got other interests or hobbies. I consider myself lucky that after rejoining academia and ending up in a small research group where nobody cares about anyone's whereabouts or work status, I can do whatever I want at my own pace. Yet in academia, the general work pressure and focus on numbers is arguably even more unhealthy than in industry. If I meet colleagues who ask whether or not it's busy at our faculty/campus, remember that that isn't a question: they won't listen for the answer---it's a resounding yes. It's always a yes. Busy busy busy. If you're not busy, you're simply a slacker.

I try very hard to be a slacker while keeping my productive engine online, and for the last five years, that has worked out pretty well. But still, to what end? Why do I have to dance the dance or to compete in the first place? I find it very disturbing that nobody is asking these questions.

Nobody but a group of philosophers, that is. Reading Epicurus or Montaigne feels very refreshing, even though their manuscripts are hundreds of years old, and even though Montaigne simply inherited his wealthy castle domain significantly easing the decision to live a secluded writer's life and Epicurus's way of life was extreme compared to the expectations of our contemporary peers. The problem doesn't go away, though: as soon as you want to put theory into practice, judgement of others (and the self) will be there waiting for you.

I like achieving things. I'm a box-ticker: it feels great to put something online, finish a work, produce something, and of course, because of that, be approved by peers. Yet I have the feeling that I need to stop and reflect more. I need to put something online, finish a work, and produce something to gain recognition of myself. I need to say to myself that it is something special.

Will that be enough? I'm afraid I'll always feel the influence of the inescapable capitalism that without a doubt will corrupt the way I see myself doing or not doing things. This makes it especially hard to think about the concept of achievement fatigue: is this my own self yelling to stop and think, or is this some kind of trick to motivate me to keep on pushing forward and doing more? Despite having achieved quite a bit (according to myself?), a little voice tells me I could have done so much more in the time that was given to me but now is squandered.

I am tired, yet I find it impossible to stop doing anything. I get restless. I hate having nothing to do on a week of holiday. I despise the period in-between waiting for a grant, and even though I could convert the current time into yet another personal project, my mind keeps on wandering, thinking how I could be more productive. I need to tick boxes. I have to write this article because it's been four days since I published anything on Brain Baking.

This drive to achieve, this wonderful feeling of accomplishment, sometimes very much feels like poison running through my veins.