夕陽(yáng)無(wú)限好

I believe in leaving work at five o’clock.

In a nation that operates on a 1)staunch 2)Protestant work ethic， this belief could be considered radical. Working only 40 hours a week? I just don’t know many people who punch out at five o’clock anymore. It seems 3)downright quaint， like pocket watches and 4)shoe shines.

My father tried to teach me the importance of hard work， long hours， and dedication to a career. But then there are the things he taught me unintentionally， like when he arrived home from work for the last time and crawled up the stairs.

My father， a self-employed sales trainer， was that sick， that tired. His body was wracked with liver cancer， and he suffered the effects of a 5)diabetic ulcer. Still， he insisted on traveling to 6)honor his commitment to give a seminar. He probably earned a lot of money that day， and he paid the price: He returned to the hospital soon after and was dead within three months， at age 58.

It’s been 10 years since I saw my father come home that night and since then， I’ve thought a lot about work. I’ve decided something: I will never crawl up the stairs. As much as I love my job as a newspaper reporter， I will never 7)work myself into the ground， literally or 8)figuratively.

The idea of leaving work at work didn’t come easily to me. After all， I am my father’s daughter. In college， I wasn’t going to 9)keg parties in a 10)frat basement; I was the girl who lingered on the library steps each morning， waiting for the doors to open. I even dreamt about schoolwork.

My dad once told me he was unable to just gaze at a sunset; he had to be doing something as he looked at it—writing， reading， playing chess. You could say he was a success: He was a published author， an accomplished musician， fluent in German and the American Sign Language. That’s an impressive list， but here’s the thing: I want to gaze at sunsets. I don’t want to meet a deadline during them or be writing a column at the same time， or glance at them over the top of a book.

This raises the question: If I leave work at five o’ clock to watch the sunset， what are the consequences? Do I risk not reaching the top of my profession? Maybe， because honestly， 11)knocking off after eight hours probably won’t earn me the12)corner office or the 13)lucrative promotion.

But hey， leaving work at five o’ clock means I eat dinner with my family. I get to hop on my bike and pedal through the streets of my hometown as the shadows lengthen and the traffic thins.

And I get to take in a lot of sunsets. That’s got to be worth something.

我的信念是在五點(diǎn)結(jié)束每天的工作。

在這個(gè)奉行新教徒那套“工作至上”理念的國(guó)度，我的這一信念可算是激進(jìn)。每周只工作40小時(shí)?我認(rèn)識(shí)的人中很少是下午五點(diǎn)打卡下班的。那看起來(lái)就跟懷表、鞋油這類東西一樣，簡(jiǎn)直是過(guò)時(shí)而怪異。

我父親盡力教導(dǎo)我勤奮工作、超時(shí)工作以及獻(xiàn)身事業(yè)這幾點(diǎn)的重要性。但后來(lái)，他也無(wú)意中教了我一些東西，比如那次當(dāng)他最后一次下班回家爬上樓梯的時(shí)候。

我父親是一名自雇的銷售培訓(xùn)師。那天，他已經(jīng)病得很厲害，疲憊不堪。肝癌拖垮了他的身體，他還飽受糖尿病潰瘍的折磨。然而，他為履行承諾仍堅(jiān)持到外地主持一個(gè)研討會(huì)。他那天可能賺了不少錢(qián)，但他也付出了代價(jià)——不久之后又住進(jìn)了醫(yī)院，而且三個(gè)月后就去世了，終年58歲。

那晚看到父親回家已是十年前的事了，自那以后，我對(duì)工作作了多番思考。我決定:我決不要爬著樓梯回家。作為一名報(bào)社記者，盡管我非常熱愛(ài)我的工作，但我決不會(huì)因?yàn)槠疵ぷ鞫炎约核瓦M(jìn)“墳?zāi)埂崩铮瑹o(wú)論是字面義還是比喻義。

只在工作時(shí)間內(nèi)工作的想法于我并非易事，畢竟，有其父必有其女。讀大學(xué)時(shí)，我不去大學(xué)生聯(lián)誼會(huì)在地下室里舉辦的啤酒狂歡派對(duì)，而是每天一早就在圖書(shū)館的階梯上徘徊，等著圖書(shū)館開(kāi)門(mén)。我甚至做夢(mèng)都會(huì)夢(mèng)到功課作業(yè)。

我父親曾經(jīng)告訴我，他就是沒(méi)法凝視夕陽(yáng)。看著夕陽(yáng)的同時(shí)他還得做些別的事——寫(xiě)作、閱讀、下象棋。你可以稱他是成功人士:他是一名發(fā)表過(guò)作品的作家，一位有造詣的音樂(lè)家，能說(shuō)流利的德語(yǔ)，能熟練運(yùn)用美國(guó)手語(yǔ)。……