The pressure to work at all hours of the day (even cutting your Lululemon-clad yoga session at lunch short) tends to intensify as the spring/summer months approach, and your workplace expects you to pay endlessly for their “generosity” in giving you Summer Fridays.
Working under duress, however, is notorious for yielding a low-quality output as you type away indiscriminately in a frazzled fashion, not exactly sure what the fuck you’re doing, but positive that it must be worthwhile if you’re doing it with such intensity. The truth is, though, management doesn’t care about what you do, so long as you look miserable doing it. Because that must mean you’re working hard. Or hardly working.