As you know, I’ve been working an insane amount of hours lately, but it’s all part of my plan for world domination.
Today was my twelfth straight day chained to my desk, but the streak will end this weekend.
After I work just a few hours tomorrow.
I can’t help myself, Modern Philosophers. I am constantly crunching the numbers in my head, and the larger the potential paycheck gets, the more energy I find to work just a few more hours.
I was raised by a frugal woman to respect the value of every last penny. Because of this, I can’t walk away from the overtime hours. I know the option to earn time and a half will disappear soon, and I don’t want to find myself wishing I had stuffed just a few more bills down my shorts before the treasure chest was locked away for good.
Is that your overtime earnings in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?
With this in mind, I present the great philosophical conundrum I faced at 8AM. By this time, I’d already worked two hours, and I had another nine and a half hours ahead of me.
If I could make it until 5:30, that would be a solid twenty hours of OT for the week, a new record for me, and a really sweet paycheck next payday.
The only problem standing between me and the execution of this awesome plan was my stomach. At 8AM, it was emitting some very troubling gurgling noises, and there were pains that I immediately equated with imminent death.
After I found a quiet place to deal with these issues (he typed politely), the first Deep Thought to pop into my head surprised even me.
It went something like this…
If I go home now and die in my bed with some dignity, I”ll only earn eleven hours of overtime this week. However, if I stick it out at my desk and suffer like a miserable animal all day, I’ll have twenty hours of OT on my next paycheck…
Is that sick and twisted, Modern Philosophers, or does it make perfect sense?
Honestly, if it had been just a regular work week, I would have given serious thought to going back to The House on the Hill to make use of my home facilities. A day spent in bed, never too far from the water closet, would’ve been nice, especially when you factor in that it’s the long holiday weekend.
The thought of that made my stomach hurt even more.
I basically gave myself a pretty powerful pep talk, waited for the worst of the stomach cramps to pass (bad pun or just the truth?), and went back to my desk.
My stomach wasn’t calling the shots today, Modern Philosophers.
My wallet was.
And I was okay with that because I toughened up and got through the day. Hell, I even enjoyed a lovely lunch courtesy of the office potluck.
Now I’ve got some extra money to spend…if I ever have any time off to spend it.
What would you have done in this situation, Modern Philosophers? Have you ever been faced by a similar philosophical quandary?
Share your stories. It’s a holiday weekend at the Think Tank and we’ve got to keep this party rolling!
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