Baby when you sing the blues I take all my clothes off for you
January 22, 2008RICHMOND, Va. — Aye. Is it chivalrous for one to do good deed, and yet, be compensated handsomely? It’s deep morning Monday night (my Saturday equivalent) and I’m going to work tomorrow for some voluntary overtime. I regret agreeing to do it. I would really like to sleep in. I really would.
But being paid for overtime is not too shabby either. That must be considered. On one hand, I’m doing my company a favor. On the other I’d rather eat razors.
I can’t sleep. I’m just not feeling it. Why does one volunteer for overtime anyway? This, in retrospect, was a bad bad move. It’s not that I don’ t like my job. I like it. I don’t enjoy it, but I can’t say I don’t like it.
But what possessed me to gift the company my precious time? I think I hate myself. Hate, maybe, because it’s oh so early in the morning. Yes. It’s true. I hate myself.