what do you even do for work?

It’s funny how you can know someone for years and still have no idea what they actually do all day.

I was talking to a few friends not long ago when I went to visit my mum, people I’ve known since I was 11 years old, and somehow the conversation landed on a simple question: “What do you even do for work?”

At first it was a joke. The sort of thing you laugh about because you realise it sounds ridiculous. But the longer we spoke, the more it hit me. We genuinely didn’t know.

We knew the broad stuff. We knew who seemed busy, who seemed stressed, who had bought a house, who travelled a lot, who was doing well for themselves. But the actual details? The thing they spend forty, fifty, sometimes sixty hours a week doing? Most of us hadn’t got a clue.

And it made me realise how strange friendships become as you get older.

When you’re younger, you know almost everything about your friends. You know what classes they’re taking, who they fancy, what they did at the weekend, what they’re worried about. You’re involved in the day-to-day details of each other’s lives.

Then adulthood happens.

People move away. Careers start. Relationships come and go. Responsibilities pile up. Before you know it, your conversations become a collection of highlights. Birthdays. Holidays. Breakups. New jobs. Big announcements.

The middle part gets lost.

We talk about memories because we shared them. We talk about life updates because they’re easy to summarise. But we rarely talk about the things that actually consume most of our time now.

The routines.

The projects.

The goals.

The frustrations.

The things we’re building.

The things we’re sacrificing for.

The reality of who we’ve become.

Instead, we see the outcomes. We see the new car but not the overtime. We see the holiday but not the months of planning. We see the promotion but not the years of stress that came before it. We see the tired eyes but not what’s causing them.

We end up knowing the results while being completely disconnected from the process.

The funny thing is, it’s not even because people are hiding anything. Most of the time nobody asks.

We assume our friends know. They assume we know. Everyone carries on with that assumption until a simple question exposes the gap.

And that’s how connections quietly become surface level without either person intending it.

Not because the friendship disappeared.

Not because anyone stopped caring.

Just because life became busy enough that curiosity got replaced by familiarity.

You start thinking you know someone because you’ve known them for a long time. But knowing someone’s history and knowing their current world are two completely different things.

That’s why that question stuck with me.

“What do you even do for work?”

Not because it was about work specifically, but because it revealed how much of each other’s lives we no longer see.

Sometimes staying connected isn’t about knowing everything. It’s about staying curious. Asking questions you think you already know the answer to. Taking an interest in the person your friend has become, not just the person they used to be.

Because if you don’t, one day you’ll realise you’ve spent years cheering someone on without ever really understanding what they’ve been fighting through to get where they are.