Last Updated on October 31, 2024 by Michael

How to Battle Burnout at Work Without Exploding (Literally)

Burnout, huh? It’s that special cocktail of exhaustion, cynicism, and the overwhelming urge to turn your desk into a fortress of despair made from empty coffee cups and shattered hopes. Are you tired of feeling like an underpaid hamster on a corporate wheel? Well, you’re in the right place. It’s time to flip the burnout narrative upside down. You know, before you actually light your office on fire and blame it on the printer.

Let’s unpack how to recognize burnout and, more importantly, make sure you prevent it from turning you into a shadow of your former self. Or worse, the person who always volunteers for office potlucks.

My Boss is a Lizard: Recognizing the Signs of Burnout

Alright, maybe your boss isn’t literally a lizard, but burnout sure makes it feel like it. Suddenly, everything they do feels suspicious, cold-blooded, and generally like they’re plotting your demise. Burnout has a way of turning even the most well-meaning emails into cryptic declarations of your impending doom.

Ever caught yourself staring into space while your brain contemplates the deeper meaning of your stapler? That’s burnout creeping in, my friend. It makes every mundane task feel like it’s laced with existential angst. Responding to emails feels like answering a Sphinx’s riddle. Who decided “regards” was the right word to end an email, anyway? Is there no stronger word for sheer desperation?!

And how about that irresistible urge to start humming “Breaking the Law” every time you pass by your office’s thermostat? Yeah, that’s the burnout anthem. You want to rebel, but not enough to get fired—just enough to watch the office temperature rise from 72 to 74 degrees without management knowing.

If you find yourself drawing an army of tiny stick figures on your notepad who are clearly preparing for an uprising—that’s another clue. The figures aren’t even doing anything productive; they’re just angrily shaking their fists at a stick-figure version of you wearing a tie. Burnout makes even your doodles mad.

Or let’s talk about the fact that hearing the phrase “work-life balance” makes you want to laugh until you cry, then cry until you pass out, then wake up just to laugh again—before realizing your tears have created an inappropriate number of water rings on the office table.

Burnout can also make you a strange office philosopher. You start asking unanswerable questions like, “Why does Susan always cook fish in the breakroom microwave?” or, “What is the real purpose of quarterly reports, and will I find enlightenment if I finish them before the deadline?”

You begin to see your coworkers as characters from a dystopian movie—John from accounting, the guy who always eats alone and mumbles about the meaninglessness of numbers, seems like the oracle who’s about to reveal the true plot twist. Spoiler alert: It’s that we’re all doomed. Probably because of Susan’s microwaved fish.

And let’s not ignore the physical signs. You know it’s bad when your keyboard feels like it has a gravitational pull, sucking you into a universe where every keystroke is a cry for help. Or when even your coffee cup looks concerned for you—like it’s judging how much caffeine you’ve consumed. You’re this close to adding coffee as a line item in the budget proposal.

If you’re frequently imagining what your stapler would look like if thrown across the room in a fit of rage—and calculating the odds that it might hit Frank, who you can’t stand—you’re deep in burnout territory. Same goes for if you’ve caught yourself Googling, “How to live off the grid and raise goats” during a meeting.

Emotional Support Pigeons & Other Burnout Prevention Tactics

Nothing quite says “I’m holding it together” like talking to the pigeons outside your office window. Sure, some people have emotional support dogs, but you’ve got emotional support pigeons, and they don’t judge your life choices or care about your unwashed hair. Maybe they’re here to remind you that even the dirtiest, most chaotic creatures can still find a crust of bread. It’s oddly inspiring.

A solid prevention tactic is the “Nap Under the Desk” maneuver. Now, don’t confuse this with falling asleep out of desperation. No, no. This is a calculated power move—an act of defiance where you reclaim your time by resting like some kind of misunderstood, exhausted office Batman. The shadows beneath your desk are your Batcave, and your utility belt is filled with gum wrappers and tears.

You could also consider faking your own disappearance for a day. Think of it as a one-person office mystery. Just leave a single Post-it on your desk that says, “I’ve gone to seek vengeance,” and don’t elaborate. Take the day off. Let the team interpret it however they want.

Another technique? Create a makeshift shrine to your pre-burnout self. Gather mementos from your early, hopeful days: a well-polished resume, the picture of you smiling before the office drained your soul, and a motivational mug that says something cringe like “Seize the Day.” Light a candle for that person. Reflect on their innocence. Don’t let their sacrifice be in vain.

There’s also the “Aggressive Hydration” approach. You know, where you bring in a gallon jug of water and aggressively chug every 20 minutes while making intense eye contact with your computer. Hydration is self-care, and this is your way of reminding yourself—and everyone else—that you are made of water and rage.

Switching your email signature to something both passive-aggressive and slightly alarming is another great tactic. Instead of the usual, switch it to “Yours, but barely,” or “Hanging on by a thread.” This sends the clear message that you’re still there but not to be messed with. It’s a silent protest, a call for help, and an assertion of dominance all in one.

Participate in pointless but satisfying office drama. Not harmful drama, but more like petty drama that gives you joy—like keeping track of how many days in a row Linda in HR wears her “Friday Feeling” shirt even though it’s clearly a Tuesday. Or start a conspiracy theory about who keeps stealing the good pens. Turn the office into your own personal soap opera—complete with petty vendettas and plot twists.

One word: Snacks. But not just any snacks—elaborate snacks. Bring in an entire charcuterie board and set it up at your desk. Cheese, crackers, grapes, the works. When people ask why, just tell them you’re preparing for an imminent breakdown and that you want to do it in style. Because if you’re going down, you’re going down with brie.

Of course, there’s always the “Office Gollum” strategy. Spend time in dark corners, muttering incomprehensible things about the “precious” client files and glaring at anyone who approaches. This creates an aura of mystery around you—nobody knows if you’re on the verge of burnout or if you’ve simply transcended office politics altogether. They won’t know if they should give you a hug or file an HR complaint.

If all else fails, implement the “Random Applause” technique. At random intervals, stand up and start clapping for no apparent reason. When people inevitably ask why you’re clapping, simply say, “Just keeping the spirit alive,” and sit back down. It keeps them confused, keeps you entertained, and, quite frankly, adds a spark of spontaneity to an otherwise dull day.

Desk Plants: Your New Frenemies

Desk plants are supposed to bring life into the office, right? But once burnout sets in, they turn into your frenemies. That tiny succulent in the corner is not just surviving—it’s thriving, despite the emotional desert of your work environment. You start to hate it for that.

Maybe you catch yourself whispering to your cactus, demanding answers. “Why are you so resilient? What do you know that I don’t?” You make deals with it, like a hostage negotiator: “If you stay alive, maybe I will too.” The cactus doesn’t respond, but somehow its smug silence feels like a dare.

Desk plants can also become a reflection of your mental health. You forget to water them, just like you’ve forgotten to take care of yourself. When the leaves start to brown and drop, it’s basically a botanical intervention. But it’s hard to care for something else when you’re too busy questioning your existence between quarterly reports.

Then there’s the rivalry. When Janet from marketing shows off her thriving monstera that she’s named “Leafy Boi,” it’s hard not to feel like you’re losing at life. Leafy Boi has two new leaves and a vine crawling across Janet’s desk. Meanwhile, your little spider plant looks like it’s given up all hope. It’s like Janet is taunting you with her plant-based superiority.

In a fit of pettiness, you consider buying an even bigger, more elaborate plant. Something that requires an entire greenhouse’s worth of humidity and sunlight—just to outdo Janet. But then you remember you can barely keep a cactus alive, and you realize that maybe plants aren’t the solution to your burnout.

Or maybe they are. Maybe it’s not about keeping the plant alive—maybe it’s about bonding over the struggle. The two of you, side by side, battling the relentless office climate. You, with your increasing apathy, and the plant, clinging desperately to whatever’s left of its chlorophyll.

Desk plants can also be great listeners. They won’t interrupt when you’re ranting about Kevin stealing your lunch from the communal fridge again. And honestly, they never judge you for the amount of time you spend glaring at Excel sheets. Sure, they’re probably judging you silently with their slow, steady photosynthesis—but who isn’t?

If you’re feeling particularly defiant, you could decide to stop taking care of your plant altogether and see if it has the guts to die on your watch. Play a game of “who gives up first?” Spoiler: It might actually be the plant. But at least one of you will finally be free.

And let’s not ignore the office conversations desk plants spark. People come by and say, “Oh, look at your little fern!” It’s a simple conversation starter, but at this point in your burnout, even acknowledging a plant feels like a monumental effort. You respond with, “Yeah, it’s dying, just like my will to work.” The stunned silence that follows? Priceless.

Remember, desk plants are not just for decoration. They’re a window into your soul, a botanical mirror of your career fatigue. Treat them well, but not too well. You wouldn’t want Janet thinking you’re actually coping, would you?

Spontaneous Office Redecorating (Also Known as Rearranging Everyone’s Stuff)

Nothing screams “I’m on the edge, but in a creative way” quite like randomly redecorating the office. Maybe you’re not in charge of interior design, but burnout makes you an unhinged Martha Stewart, and it’s time to unleash that chaotic energy.

Start small—move the stapler from someone’s desk to the breakroom. Watch as they panic, trying to remember where they last saw it. Is it passive-aggressive? Sure. Is it helping you deal with burnout? Absolutely. There’s a certain satisfaction in controlling the chaos when your own brain feels out of control.

The next step is rearranging the communal area. Move the coffee maker three inches to the left and watch as everyone freaks out. It’s like a sociology experiment in how small changes can disrupt the flow of office life. People will be confused, disoriented, and strangely unsettled, but hey—you did something today. You changed the environment, even if it was just for the sake of your own twisted amusement.

Consider swapping items between coworkers’ desks without them noticing. Swap their mouse with someone else’s. Switch keyboards. Replace someone’s ergonomic chair with the squeakiest, most uncomfortable one you can find. It creates an atmosphere of paranoia, a sense that nothing is certain anymore—which, let’s be honest, is exactly what burnout feels like.

Then there’s the ultimate move: the complete desk overhaul. Choose a random desk, ideally when its owner is out for lunch or on vacation. Rearrange every item—pens, notepads, personal knick-knacks—until the entire setup is inverted. Leave no clue that you did it. When they come back, they’ll feel like they’re in an alternate universe where everything is slightly off, and you’ll be sitting at your desk, barely hiding a grin.

Office redecorating is also a great way to establish dominance. When someone inevitably notices that you’ve moved their things and questions you, simply say, “I thought it looked better this way.” Make direct eye contact and refuse to elaborate. The mystery of your intentions will be enough to keep them at bay, and maybe they’ll even second-guess whether or not they like their original desk setup.

This spontaneous rearrangement isn’t just about confusing your coworkers—it’s about confusing burnout, too. If burnout can’t figure out where anything is, maybe it’ll give up and go home. Maybe it’ll decide this office is just too strange and unpredictable to be worth sticking around.

And if you want to really kick it up a notch, start adding items to other people’s desks. Bring in something totally out of place—a garden gnome, a rubber chicken, an oversized trophy that says “World’s Okayest Coworker.” Leave these items on random desks, and wait for the chaos to unfold. People will start whispering, wondering if they’re part of some elaborate prank, or if they should just accept their new desk companions.

Add some seasonal decorations, but do it during the wrong season. Put up Halloween decorations in March. Hang mistletoe in July. Convince people there’s a holiday they forgot about. If nothing else, it’ll make the office look different, and different can feel better, even if it makes absolutely no sense.

And for the final touch, change up the whiteboard messages. If your office has one of those motivational quotes-of-the-day boards, hijack it. Replace “Teamwork makes the dream work” with “Every man for himself” or “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.” It’ll give everyone a chuckle, and honestly, sometimes the truth is exactly what you need to cope with burnout.

Adopt a Completely Unrelated Office Persona

Burnout has you feeling like just another cog in the machine? It’s time to spice things up by adopting a new office persona. This is not method acting; it’s pure survival. You’re not pretending to be a dedicated employee—you’re pretending to be someone entirely different, someone who hasn’t yet been crushed by the weight of the corporate grind.

Start small: Maybe today, you’re an undercover detective. You dress a little bit different—throw on a trench coat, wear sunglasses inside, carry a notepad everywhere, and take notes while glaring suspiciously at everyone. When people ask what you’re doing, simply say, “I’m on the case,” and refuse to elaborate. You’ll confuse them, you’ll confuse yourself, and most importantly, you’ll confuse burnout.

Or maybe you’re a motivational speaker for a day. Walk around the office and offer unsolicited advice with the energy of a cult leader. Say things like, “You’ve got this, champ,” or “Remember, no one can steal your sunshine!”—even if you don’t believe it for a second. The key is to fully commit to the persona, no matter how cringeworthy.

Be the “Office Chef.” Come in with a chef’s hat, set up a small portable stove (or at least a hot plate), and insist that you’re cooking lunch for everyone—even if it’s just reheating leftovers. Walk around with a spoon, taste people’s food, and say, “Needs more salt” regardless of what they’re eating. Take it very seriously, even if no one else does.

Consider taking on the persona of a Shakespearean bard. Speak only in old-timey English, referring to your boss as “My liege” and the office copier as “Ye olde scroll-maker.” End every email with, “Forsooth, I await thine reply.” Nobody will understand why you’re doing it, but nobody will dare confront you about it either.

If you’re really feeling daring, be the “Office Ghost.” Wear a white sheet with eye holes cut out, and just drift silently from cubicle to cubicle. When asked what you’re doing, say you’re haunting the premises, seeking vengeance for the unpaid overtime you put in last month. They’ll either laugh or get scared, but either way, they’ll leave you alone—and isn’t that what we all want?

Dress up as a safari guide and tell everyone you’re here to document the behaviors of the “wild office worker in their natural habitat.” Narrate people’s actions out loud like you’re filming a documentary. “Notice how Linda from HR carefully approaches the coffee pot, her eyes weary from the daily grind.” It’s absurd, yes, but it’s also a wonderful distraction from the tedium.

Or just come in one day dressed as if you’re ready to hit the gym—headband, sweatbands, shorts—and tell people you’re the new “Office Fitness Coach.” Start random stretching sessions during meetings, or blow a whistle and announce that it’s time for “mandatory jumping jacks.” The HR emails will start rolling in, but so will the laughs—and suddenly burnout doesn’t feel so heavy.

Adopting an unrelated persona is all about disarming burnout by confusing it. If you’re too unpredictable, even your own mental exhaustion won’t know how to pin you down. Just make sure to change it up often enough that it doesn’t become predictable. Today a detective, tomorrow a yoga instructor, next week a pirate. Burnout can’t keep up with that, and frankly, neither can your boss.

The Art of Starting Pointless Office Clubs

Burnout makes every day feel like a drudge, so why not inject some absurdity by starting a completely pointless office club? The key here is pointless—you want it to have absolutely no productivity value, just pure, unfiltered nonsense.

How about a “Paperclip Chain Enthusiasts Club”? Gather your coworkers and get together once a week to see who can make the longest chain of paperclips. Is it contributing to the company’s bottom line? Absolutely not. Is it strangely satisfying? You bet it is. Bonus points if you can use company resources to procure all the paperclips without HR noticing.

Consider the “Printer Haters Anonymous” club. The only requirement is that every member has to share their most recent frustration with the office printer. Make it dramatic—tearful confessions, shared grievances, maybe even a support group-style hug at the end. It won’t fix the printer, but it’ll make you feel less alone.

Or start a “Desk Fort Builders Association.” Encourage coworkers to construct elaborate forts out of office supplies. Cardboard boxes, leftover reams of printer paper, empty binders—nothing is off-limits. Bonus points for the fort with the best decorations. It’s basically adult Legos, but with a far less forgiving set of tools.

Start an “Office Olympics” club where you come up with ridiculous office-based events. Who can send an email the fastest? Who can photocopy their face without getting caught? Who can balance the most staplers on their head? It’ll give you a sense of competition and camaraderie without any of the actual stress of work.

The “Petty Office Drama Club” is another great idea. The goal of this club is to document, exaggerate, and laugh about the pettiest of office drama. Who keeps taking the last donut? Did Brad steal Sarah’s favorite mug? Dive into the absolutely trivial office squabbles with the intensity of an investigative journalist. It keeps things interesting, and it reminds you that even the smallest injustices are worth caring about—if only for comedic value.

Or start a “Wildlife Observation Club” where your sole purpose is to observe and document the pigeons outside. Give them names, personalities, and backstories. “That’s Gregory, he’s been eyeing Carol’s crust since Tuesday.” It takes your mind off spreadsheets and puts it on something equally mundane but far less depressing.

How about an “Office Gossip Telephone Club”? Each member must attempt to pass a piece of office gossip through the group, telephone style, and see what version of the story reaches the end. Spoiler: It’ll be absurd, inaccurate, and hilariously warped. It’s a way to remind yourself that even the things people take seriously are pretty laughable.

Or you could launch the “Unhelpful Suggestion Committee.” Meet weekly to brainstorm completely unhelpful ideas for improving office culture. “What if we installed a bouncy castle in the breakroom?” or “Mandatory kazoo hour every afternoon.” Document these and leave them anonymously in the suggestion box. Nobody will take them seriously, but it’ll give HR something to think about.

Create a “Left-Handed Coffee Drinkers Union.” It doesn’t matter if you’re left-handed or not. It doesn’t even matter if you drink coffee. Hold mock protests demanding left-handed mugs, special recognition, and more respect. It’s nonsensical and hilarious, but it’s also a surprising amount of fun—and burnout doesn’t stand a chance against pure absurdity.

And if you’re feeling particularly adventurous, start a “Future Ghosts of This Office” club. Sit around and discuss what kind of ghost you’d become if you died at your desk. Will you haunt the breakroom, eternally moving people’s lunches? Will you cause the copier to jam at precisely the wrong moment? It’s weirdly cathartic to laugh about the afterlife when your current life is held hostage by burnout.

The point of starting a pointless office club is to remind yourself that work doesn’t always have to be serious. Burnout thrives on drudgery and monotony—break it up with complete, useless, but entertaining chaos.

Unconventional Motivational Posters (For Maximum Confusion)

Motivational posters are supposed to make you feel good about yourself. But when burnout strikes, those “Hang in there!” cat posters just don’t cut it anymore. It’s time to create your own motivational posters that are a little more honest—and a lot more confusing.

Try putting up a poster that says, “Breathe… or don’t. Either way.” It sends a message that’s both comforting and disconcerting, which is exactly how you feel at work anyway. It’s acknowledging that burnout has left you feeling indifferent, but it’s also strangely funny in its bleakness.

Another great one is “Productivity: Overrated, but here we are.” It’s the kind of poster that makes people pause for a second and think, “Yeah, why are we here?” It’s honest, it’s direct, and it doesn’t try to sugarcoat anything. You don’t need to be inspired right now—you just need to get through the day.

Or how about “I’m doing my best, which is barely anything.” It’s relatable, it’s real, and it lowers everyone’s expectations—including your own. This one is especially good for those days when just showing up to work feels like an accomplishment in itself. Bonus points if you put it near your boss’s desk.

“Remember: No one actually knows what they’re doing” is another solid choice. It’s the universal truth of the modern workplace, but nobody wants to admit it. When burnout makes you feel like a fraud, this poster is here to remind you that everyone is just faking it. It makes the pressure feel a little less intense.

Then there’s the classic: “You can’t fail if you never try.” It’s pessimistic, yes, but also strangely liberating. Burnout often leaves you feeling like a failure, so why not flip it on its head? If trying is what’s causing you stress, maybe take a step back and reconsider. At the very least, it’ll give your coworkers a good laugh.

If you’re feeling particularly jaded, go with “Hope is a dangerous thing, but I have it anyway.” It’s a nod to the fact that, despite everything, you’re still clinging to some tiny shred of hope. Burnout hasn’t completely won yet, and that’s worth acknowledging—even if it’s a little dark.

“Meetings: Where we take minutes and waste hours” is perfect for the conference room. It’s a stark reminder of just how much time we spend talking in circles, and sometimes laughter is the best way to cope with the futility of it all.

Then there’s “Lower your expectations, I already have.” This one works wonders for setting the right tone. You’re not promising greatness, just mere existence. Burnout has already done a number on you—now you just need everyone else to understand that.

“Pretend you’re good at this” is the kind of motivational advice burnout can actually get behind. It’s a gentle reminder that you don’t have to be amazing—you just have to look like you know what you’re doing. If you squint hard enough, faking competence is basically the same as competence.

Another option is “Smile. It confuses people.” It’s light-hearted, it’s unexpected, and it’s a good reminder that sometimes a little mischief can go a long way. Burnout makes it hard to genuinely smile, but if you can manage it just to confuse the people around you, it suddenly becomes worthwhile.

Finally, how about “If you’re still here, you’re already winning”? It’s the ultimate burnout poster. Forget productivity, forget metrics—if you’ve made it through the day, you’ve won. It’s that simple. Burnout wants you to feel like you’re failing, but this poster reminds you that survival alone is a success.

The key with these unconventional posters is to create an office environment where it’s okay to feel burned out, cynical, and over it. The humor is dark, but it’s also exactly what burnout hates—authenticity. When everyone acknowledges how tough it is, it gets just a little bit easier to keep going.

Conclusion: You Can’t Burn Out If You Were Never On Fire

Burnout is sneaky—it creeps up on you like that weird smell in the office fridge. You don’t notice it until it’s too late, and by then you’re questioning your sanity and wondering why you ever thought spreadsheets were a good life choice. But with a little bit of nonsense, a sprinkle of chaos, and a pigeon-based support group, you can prevent burnout from taking over your life. You got this…or, at the very least, you’ll go down swinging. Just don’t actually swing at Frank in accounting—nobody likes the HR meeting that follows.