Today is a work day. It doesn't start until 3.30pm, but I will work a full and proper day and finish at 11.30pm and get paid for my troubles.
But here's the thing: despite the fact that it IS genuine work and WILL occupy me for eight hours, i can't help but feel like it's just a bit of fun... like a pleasant afternoon activity I have planned... like a game of badminton. I find this happens to me when I work on Saturday's too.
I know it's work, and I am not playing, but somewhere, deep down inside, my heart and soul are at leisure.
I suspect this is not a sentiment shift workers share.
Sniff... when I got there, it turned out there had been a fuck up and I got sent home again. But tomorrow, I will feel it all over again.
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