“Did you survive this weekend?” a regular customer asked as she was leaving…
“Barely,” I answered.
Today, I woke at 6:30, was at work before 8 o’clock, and got home just after 9:30 p.m.
It might be the only reason I’m glad I don’t have kids. I can’t imagine being away from home for those hours this often.
I remember putting in long hours when I worked in advertising. Sitting at my desk, having a boss walk by and comment how late it was. Yeah, I was working, but I was sitting at a desk. My high-heels were still shiny. The creative juices were flowing, not my blood-pressure.
At the end of a day like today, my rubber Crocs are covered in flour and oil, and my feet are tender to the touch.
No complaints, of course. I chose this job. And I’m good at it.
Walking a mile in someones shoes has an entirely different meaning when going from a white-collar to a no-collar job.