Tuesday, February 06, 2007

On Forty Hours

Usually about twice a day I feel guilty about being a slacker at work. Right at noon, and right at five because that's right about the time I cut out while everyone else is still fighting right on. What a bunch of troopers. I envy them. Their dedication. Their fortitude. I have more important priorities - two in particular: 1) getting the bloody 'ell away from there as fast as I can, and 2) doing it as quick as possible to maximize my free time.

Whatever I was working on at five will be there in the morning. But I'll never have another chance to relax and enjoy that particular evening my way in my entire life. You get to experience each evening one time. That's it. And I'll be damned if I'm going to ruin it staying late every night. It messes with my whole schedule - exercise, tennis, dinner, the dogs, entertainment, quality time with my wife, my Xbox, the whole nine. These are key ingredients to my evenings and quite frankly, work just doesn't fit on that itinerary.

It's selfish I know. Horribly selfish. But I'm an epicurean. It's what I do, it's who I am. It defines me. Pleasure before work. That's the rule I live by.

Don't get me wrong, if I'm needed at work, I'm there; and I won't complain about it. But I set that priority, no one else. That's another rule I live by. I don't like it when my time is managed by someone or something else. During this project I'm on right now, early on people would schedule meetings from 5-7pm at night, and you know what I would do?...accept the meeting invite (just in case it did turn out to be an important meeting), then leave at five anyway, or go for a few minutes and say "Look, y'all don't need me. I gotta go let the dogs out."

Now, let's say I enjoyed my job. Then it's a little different of a story. Because then the line between work and pleasure would blur and the actual office-departure becomes less of a priority. But, I don't (enjoy my job), so that line between work and pleasure is not so fine, in fact it's quite thick and blatant; it's the exact opposite of fine.

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