The Never-Ending Day

Some days never end. Not because you're inspired. Not because you're building something great. But because someone else is.

If you're in a third-world country, chances are your clock doesn't belong to you. It runs on someone else's time zone. Usually west of you. Usually richer than you.

Your workday starts like everyone else's. Morning calls. Day meetings. Midday syncs. But when the sun sets, it doesn't end. Because the real boss just woke up. And they need you. Fresh, responsive, online.

So you stay.

The lights stay on. The laptop warms up. The coffee keeps coming. Not because you love it. But because you can't afford not to. Your rent is local. Your salary is global. And cheap.

That's the trap. Talent is abundant. Labour is cheap. And management? Remote. Disconnected. Their 9 to 5 is your 6 PM to 2 AM. Their "quick call" is your midnight dinner. Their weekend? Your burnout.

They live in strategy decks. You live in survival mode.

And yet, you can't say no. Not because you lack dignity. But because you understand the math. Say no too often, and the job moves. To someone cheaper. Hungrier. More desperate.

This isn't a partnership. It's a pipeline from your time to their bottom line.

So you smile on Zoom. You sync on Slack. You pretend this is normal. But your body knows. Your eyes know. Your family knows.

Welcome to the never-ending day.

Not because you're lazy. But because they never stop asking. And you never got to say: Enough.

Hence, the productivity hacks? The health-first routines? The four-hour work weeks? They're first-world luxuries. The advice to put devices away after 5 PM, to eat dinner with family, to walk in the park, none of it translates.

What we get instead: No time with family. Corporates asking for 70 to 100-hour weeks. Constant notifications. Slack. Teams. Emails at midnight. Burnout brains. Unhealthy bodies.

Their optimisation is your exhaustion.