Why do I work?
Because the rent doesn't pay itself.
Because my company needs someone to perform the task at the time that I'm able to do it.
Because recreation costs money.
Because someone has to maintain the resources of a household.
Because I like wearing clean clotes.
Because food isn't free.
Because I like eating my not-so-free food off of clean plates.
Because I need to support my internet habit.
However...
My company wants to give me a pay cut in return for joining them as a permanent employee (as opposed to being a contractor). Am I really worth 75 cents per hour less?
My recreation consists of bowling and taking road trips to places where I won't be appreciated. Am I really starved for local entertainment and local company?
My household resources dwindle at a faster rate than I bring in money. Am I really prepared to live alone?
My clothes are clean; however, I'm constantly sewing buttons onto shirts that are falling into disrepair, or jeans that are fading fast, or things that no longer fit because I'm not eating anymore and they're too big. Am I in need of new clothes?
My plates are clean, but I seem to be cleaning my plates more than I'm eating off of them. Am I using wares inefficiently?
However... the landlord is happy, because my rent is always on time.
The people I take road trips to visit are happy, because they always seem to get something, material or otherwise, out of my visit. In the most recent case, this one was not only able to stay at an expensive hotel on my dime, but she was also able to bring a strange man back to my room and cuddle on one of the beds while, as usual, I failed to score and was supposed to simply "put up with it."
My job is happy, because cheaper labor is always good. Just ask about NAFTA.
Am I happy?
... well... am I?
For this blog to remain "positive," I'll let the remaining four readers respond to it. Maybe they can write a better ending.
