I’m having a bit of an emotional dilemma at the moment. But before you get concerned I should explain: I’m not in a crisis or trying to make a life-changing decision or anything like that it’s just that I, quite literally, am not sure I am feeling or, perhaps, how I SHOULD be feeling.
The reason for this is simple: I have been asked to work Sundays in my job. Now this, clearly, is not a cause for celebration. I love my two-day weekends, I live for my two-day weekend. Try to take my two-day weekends away from me and I will cut you. However, in this case, in my particular job, working on Sundays means working alone and putting my section of the paper together for the next day on my lonesome. It is, therefore, something of a show of confidence in my abilities. Given that I am pretty sure most of the time my boss thinks I’m an incompetent boob this makes me happy.
But at the same time: Sundays? Really?
So. In one corner we have: my crippling lack of self-esteem and a sad, desperate desire to feel I am good at my job. While in the other corner we have: my desire for long lie-ins, trips to the library and afternoons watching DVDs in my towelling robe.
Which is all a long-winded way of saying I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
4 comments:
Perhaps I should stop whingeing about my job. Sure, I pretty much don't get paid, but I arrongantly assume I'm good at it and I get to spend a lot of time doing..whatev.
ask for Fridays off....
My plan is just to do a really half arsed job/get the paper sued with a massive fuck up so they never get me to do it again. Genius...
you've got it wrong emery, you're only damned it you do. flag it off! sundays, really.
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