Lately, I’ve been working 40-hour weeks. And when I say, “lately,” I mean all summer. In an email to my boss, she said, “Wow. That’s like the grown-up world.” Tell me about it, lady.
But don’t you go feeling sorry for me because I’ve been tossed into this unknown world. For one thing, I Love what I do with a capital L. For thing number two, I LOVE with whom I do it with a capital l-o-v-e. And third, I have help, friends. I have secrets. I’ve figured it out.
I get by…
With a little help…
From Chick-Fil-A. And coffee. And naps. (Ha! I bet you didn’t expect that.) Those are my secrets, though. That is how I keep a smile on my face and a skip in my step. You know, along with Jesus. And Harry Potter. And blogging. And Pandora. And ice cream and mango and chocolate (a collection of foods that are delicious both on their own and together. Trust me.) And then there is Bel Canto and He’s Just Not That Into You and Pinterest. (Those were not links* to things that entertain me at work. Trust me.)
When I put it that way, there are a lot of reasons to smile, aren’t there? Because I didn’t even mention sunshine. I did say coffee, though, right? (I must point out the “8 a.m.” in that title. 8 a.m.? 8 a.m.? Do you know what I would give to sleep until 8 a.m.?! What a wimp!) I didn’t mention flowers either. But they play their part, though let it be said that if anyone wants my address so they could play a bigger part, I will gladly hand it over. Just don’t tell my roommates if you are an ax murderer, alright? On second thought, please don’t murder me, as I’m on deadline. Think about the magazine and just send me flowers, OK?
Anyway, the reasons! To smile! They are many!
So, at the end of the day…Well, the beginning of the day (It’s 8 a.m., and yes, I have been up for two hours, thanks for asking!), it doesn’t matter one bit how many hours I have to sit in a desk chair and try not to spin in circles while any of my bosses are watching. It doesn’t matter if there are bugs or a broken vase (don’t ask, alright?) or raindrops falling on my head. The emails titled “crunch week!” and “Overdue library books!” can’t touch this, no sir.
And so maybe I’m scheduled for 47 hours this week. And 42 next week. Maybe I still haven’t gotten my oil changed. So what? I kind of like this world.
And it must be said: I’ve got all the help I need to get by.