A viral TikTok is making a lot of millennials laugh and wince at the same time, because it drags a very specific kind of workplace stamina back into the light. The creator describes a familiar scene from the 2000s and 2010s, when plenty of people would go out until morning, sleep a few hours, slam a coffee, and still show up like nothing happened. What really pushed it into group therapy territory was the comment section, which quickly turned into a shared scrapbook of chaotic routines and oddly strict attendance. The overall message was simple, no matter how wrecked you felt, you showed up.
In the video, the TikTok user paints millennials as walking contradictions, messy off the clock and weirdly dependable on it. She describes people arriving dehydrated, sweating tequila, and trying to look normal despite the obvious clues from the night before. The imagery is intentionally dramatic, including the idea of sweating tequila “like a broken humidifier.” The punch line that stuck with viewers was the creator’s blunt summary, “We weren’t responsible. Okay, not really responsible, but reliable.”
The replies showed how many people recognized themselves in that version of office life. One commenter joked about a whole generation learning basic self care embarrassingly late, writing, “I don’t think any of us drank water until we were 25+.” Another pinned the habit to a particular social ritual, saying, “It all started with ‘Thirsty Thursday’.” The tone is funny, but it also hints at how normalized it was to push through exhaustion without asking questions. People were not just reminiscing, they were comparing notes.
A lot of comments sounded like tall tales, except nobody in the thread seemed surprised. One person captured the incredulity of looking back at your old self with the line, “You get home at 4 and you’re at work at 7:30. Who even was that woman?” Someone else summed up the daily grind in a single sentence, “Party till 3, work at 6, struggle bus approved.” Another reply argued that “hungover” was sometimes a polite way to put it, adding, “Hungover? I think sometimes we were still drunk and reliable.” The humor works because it feels uncomfortably believable.
@jilliangerhardt Millennials #millennial #millennials #millennialsoftiktok ♬ original sound – Jillian Gerhardt
The thread also highlighted the performance side of it, the way people tried to overcompensate so no one would notice. One commenter said, “We were so scared someone would figure it out that we worked harder than the sober person next to us.” A part of the video many viewers shared involved showing up shaky and obviously unwell, then answering a manager’s concern with, “Nothing, allergies.” It is funny as a line, but it also shows how workplaces often rewarded denial and punished honesty. Keeping up appearances mattered as much as getting the work done.
As the comment section kept rolling, it moved from jokes to extreme anecdotes. One person described a friend doing a phone interview the morning after New Year’s and still landing the job, writing, “She kept muting because she was throwing up, and she got hired.” Another went full survival story, saying, “I woke up in the woods, found my car, and went to work, and I still showed up on time.” A third cut it down to a bleak routine, “I can’t even count how many times I went to work still drunk.” These stories sound outrageous, yet the thread treats them like a shared language.
Underneath the nostalgia, some commenters pushed back on the idea that this was purely work ethic or personal toughness. One of the most direct replies explained it as financial necessity, saying, “Not by choice. We couldn’t afford rent.” Another spelled out the logic that kept people clocking in no matter what, “If you don’t show up, you don’t get paid, and if you don’t get paid, you don’t go out.” The jokes land differently when you read them next to that kind of pressure. It reframes the “reliable mess” persona as a coping strategy, not a badge of honor.
The conversation also drifted into why so many millennials now describe themselves as drained. One commenter put it plainly, “That’s why we’re burned out now.” Others suggested they used up their wild years early and do not have the energy for the same pace in their 30s. The thread becomes a snapshot of how a generation is renegotiating what it owes to work, and what it refuses to sacrifice now. It is less about glorifying hangovers and more about acknowledging the cost.
Of course, the comments eventually invited comparisons with Gen Z, because every generational story does. Some people teased younger workers for prioritizing wellbeing or skipping work when they feel off, while others argued that breaking the cycle is the healthier move. One commenter undercut the romantic version of the past by suggesting those stories are not trophies but evidence of bad habits and constant pressure. That tension is part of why the TikTok resonated, because it is both funny and a little sad. It forces the question of whether “showing up no matter what” was admirable, or simply unsustainable.
For readers who want the bigger picture, “millennials” typically refers to people born from the early 1980s through the mid 1990s, while “Gen Z” generally means those born from the late 1990s into the early 2010s. Millennials came of age during rapid workplace change, including the rise of email culture, always on phones, and growing expectations of constant availability. Gen Z entered the workforce in a period when remote work, mental health discussions, and public conversations about burnout were far more common. Even the phrase “Thirsty Thursday” has its own mini history as a college and nightlife tradition that treats Thursday as the unofficial start of the weekend. These labels are broad, but they help explain why the same workplace behavior can feel normal to one group and absurd to another.
What do you think this viral hangover work culture says about millennials, and do you see Gen Z changing the rules for the better, share your thoughts in the comments.
