CaliThompson.jpg

Hi.

Welcome to my blog. I write a lot about a lot of stuff.

Why You Should Feed Me

Why You Should Feed Me

Because I’m Already Eating at My Desk Anyway

When you envision the clichés of a modern office housing millennials, what do you see? Open-concept? Mid-century modern couches? Colorful murals on the wall? Cupboards of snacks and catered lunches? All of thee above?

While I have seen all of these things in almost every workplace I’ve inhabited, it’s those snacks and lunches that have become almost as crucial as Wi-Fi when it comes to my satisfaction in an office. Okay, not quite to that level, but on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Office Needs, it has climbed from perk to priority for me over the years.

While that may sound like I am just an entitled millennial whining about needing my avocado toast or locally sourced vegan keto whatever, I’d like to defend why every once in a while I think you, dear employer, should feed me.

First of all, yes, I do get “hangry,” but that’s not the point of this blog. The point of this blog is the fact that outside of team lunches, I cannot remember the last time I left my desk to eat lunch.

I am not one of those people who forgets to eat, who can function on coffee alone, who looks up at the clock and goes “oh my gosh it’s mid-afternoon and I haven’t even eaten yet today”! Since day one of my office-dwelling career, my desk drawers have been a hoard of emergency snacks. I fully acknowledge my desk has resembled a candy wrapper graveyard before, complete with a nice layer of crumbs to create the cemetery grounds.

What my desk would look like if I worked at a dinosaur theme park. Source: Reddit

What my desk would look like if I worked at a dinosaur theme park. Source: Reddit

What can I say? Do you want me hangry?

So sure, even if the office didn’t have that free snack cabinet (or in some cases full-time office baristas), I pack enough provisions to survive.

But the further I’ve gotten in my career, my daily workload has surpassed just needing a protein bar and a box of raisins (and admittedly mini Kitkats) to keep up with my projects without getting distracted by hunger. I am eating full meals at my desk because of how demanding my days and deadlines have become.

And I’m not alone. Nearly two-thirds of Americans eat lunch at their desk and approximately 50% eat alone regardless if they’re desk dining or not. Food ethnographer June Jo Lee sums it up best by saying:

‘‘The way people eat at work is pretty sad.’’

If you think lunch alone at a desk is bad, just forget about breakfast altogether. Millennials rank highest in the percentage of adults who skip breakfast. But, hey, at least our coffee cups overfloweth from the second we walk through those company doors, right? I honestly don’t know how many of those landfill-destined k-cups I consume in the average week, but good god look at how fast I can type!

100% accurate

100% accurate

Business Insider once said that coffee was the one office perk employers “MUST splurge on”, but the modern office employee will tell you that coffee is no longer a perk but a requirement—some going so far as to say they would give up vacation days to keep coffee flowing at work. We’re skipping breakfast so you better keep that hot caffeine bean juice coming.

So why are we replacing breakfast with endless office coffee and willingly taking our lunch tethered to our desks?

A 2019 study found that it’s not just our workloads that keep us from breaking away from our screens—we believe that we are actually being judged for taking regular lunch breaks. The report found millennials are more likely to believe that coworkers would judge them negatively if they routinely took a lunch break versus our Baby Boomer counterparts. On top of that, one in four millennials surveyed reported worrying that their boss wouldn’t consider them a hard worker if they take lunch breaks.

While I whole-heartedly fall in line with these statistics about our fear of being judged, there is a flipside to these millennial feelings: are we unconsciously embracing, in some cases even reinforcing, these anxieties?

The term “work martyr” has been popping up to describe our generation of the workforce. While sometimes used as a synonym for “workaholic”, work martyr implies a sense of masochistic pride that comes from the always-on, always-available, always-on-the-brink-of-burnout approach we feel we have to take to our jobs. Qualifiers for this work martyrdom designation from surveys include:

  • “No one else at my company can do the work while I’m away.”

  • “I want to show complete dedication to my company and job.”

  • “I don’t want others to think I am replaceable.”

  • “I feel guilty for using my paid time off.”

And nearly half of the respondents wanted their bosses to see them with this label—but only if to secure keeping their spot within the company.

Sidenote: If you want to know more about work martyrdom, I cannot recommend enough Anne Helen Petersen’s article How Millennials Became The Burnout Generation—it is my holy grail of describing the millennial strife.

But I am not asking you, dear millennial-employing company, to solve work martyrdom or the ever-growing burnout that looms over us and eventually consumes us. I’m not just saying feed us because our lunches are depressing.

This isn’t really about stocking snacks and drowning us in coffee—it’s about actually providing us a reason to get up from our desks and bond with each other outside of meetings and snarky Slack conversations.

You can at least give us a tiny little bit of that, a little bit of encouragement to eat and engage in human interactions with the people we spend 40+ hours a week with—because burnout is nigh upon us all.

I admit that seeing the team lunch invite on my calendar has made my eyes roll more than a few times, but there’s some truth that the key to someone’s heart is through their stomach.

I appreciate not having to pack my lunch the night before or getting something delivered (thank you, Favor) to mindlessly scarf down with plasticware in front of my computer. Even more than that, I value the time to get away from my screen and use my vocal cords in conversations. Memes are great to convey how you feel,but it’s actually pretty nice to LOL IRL with the other humans that who I virtually communicate with daily.

Insert all the clichés about breaking bread together, but keep in mind there is real research behind the sentiment:

  • Surveys found that 60% of respondents felt that the company-offered meals would encourage them to eat with their colleagues

  • In turn, these growing interpersonal connections between employees has been cited to spur greater productivity

  • One study actually found software developers who ate lunch in large groups wrote 10% more code than those who ate solo or with fewer colleagues

  • Even mathematical formulas are out there to calculate the unique dollar value providing on-site lunches can have for a company (sorry, I’m not going to try to replicate that math equation here)

Yes, the occasional catered lunch gives us the breathing room to take that much-needed midday break and bond with our fellow man, but it also can show real bottom-line benefits when those productivity numbers are tallied up.

All things considered, we’re not really whining millennials that just want a cereal bar in the break room—ignore the fact that millennials reportedly don’t eat cereal anymore—but instead we’re asking for permission to feel empowered enough to step away from our desks and interact with our office neighbors.

Look at that happy little donut.

Look at that happy little donut.

Even if you’re feeding us just for that promised boost in productivity all those surveys and studies tout, we’ll happily enjoy it while it lasts because those studies also show that having food in the office reduces stress and makes us feel more "valued and appreciated." Even if those numbers are bogus, I’ll take the placebo effect of free food.

We’re not asking for a 5-course meal. Just throw us a bone (or a pizza) every once in a while. Pretty please with sugar donuts on top.

Life, uh, Finds a Way

Life, uh, Finds a Way

How I Got Here: The Story No One Asked For

How I Got Here: The Story No One Asked For