My Invisible Second Job

Sometimes, the most impressive thing we do at work is remain upright and answer emails in complete sentences.

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The last few weeks have been physically rough for me. Last summer I was dismissed from oncology treatment, which I am deeply grateful for, but occasional fallout from my illness is my new normal. And normal, recently, involves deeply uncomfortable nights, followed by frenetic days. At the same time, I am renovating a house for sale and preparing to move my life without knowing where I’m actually going. And did I mention my expanded role at work? This stretch feels like a particularly unhelpful collaboration between physical strain, mental load, and cruel logistics.

From the outside, I look like someone who can handle a lot. I show up, speak clearly, run the meeting, crack the joke, hit the deadline, and generally give the impression that all systems are operational.

A lovely fiction. Very efficient. Occasionally award-worthy.

What people cannot see, especially in remote environments, is that some health challenges do not come with visible evidence. They arrive quietly, interfere aggressively, and then ask you to carry on as though your body has not just entered into open rebellion.

That creates a strange kind of workday.

You are still responsible for the deliverables… expected to think clearly, be pleasant, make good decisions, and remember where you saved that document. At the same time, part of your energy is spent managing pain, fatigue, unpredictability, or the uncertainty about whether your body is going to cooperate today.

More people live this way than we realize, quietly managing a body that requires far more negotiation than you can see.

They look fine. Meanwhile, they’re privately recalculating everything from their stamina to their tone to whether they can get through the next obligation without the internal wiring failing.

That can make you very skilled at appearing unbothered, which is useful right up until people start assuming your capacity is endless. Mine is not. And I know I am not the only one carrying an invisible second job: managing what the day is taking out of me while still making it look workable.

I’m sharing this because more people are navigating invisible physical challenges at work than we know, especially in cultures where competence gets mistaken for ease (not the same thing.) Looking well is not the same as feeling well, and for some, a very ordinary workday can cost more than anyone knows.

For me, this is a reminder to use the SNAK framework…

SKILLS: get better at communicating clearly without overexplaining
NETWORK: lean on the people who can offer real support
ACTIVITY: be more deliberate about where my energy goes
KNOWLEDGE: pay attention to my patterns instead of being surprised when my body revolts

I’m curious, how many others are managing something people would never know by looking at you?

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