And then there was exhaustion…
Somewhere between managing twenty five staff and eight million members of the public, after the last case of beer was gone and the lung infection cleared up; but before the long weekend rush I realized that THE FOURTEEN HOUR DAYS ARE KILLING ME. I love this job and I love what I do, and a lot of the time I really feel like I’m doing something useful.
The problem is that my day starts at about seven fifteen in the morning. My alarm clock (Read: The people who own the house I live in) haven’t been waking me until, oh I don’t know, around 7:08. The next problem is that it doesn’t END until about eight thirty. And then, if you’re like me, after you’ve showered and cleaned the day’s filth off yourself, once you’ve donned your boxers and tank top for a solid night’s rest, once you’ve consumed a number of beers you realized that your boss is doing tractor wor and you have yet to remove the eight miles of fence you put up on the first day.
So, you, your beer, and your boxer shorts head off through the field nearing ten at night, when the mosquitoes are at their finest and the wind is blowing mightily.
AND THEN YOU SPEND THE ENTIRE NEXT DAY SCRATCHING YOUR ASS BECAUSE THERE ARE JUST THAT MANY MOSQUITO BITES ON IT.

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