My last shred of self-control is barely hanging on for dear life while the rest of me is begging to bust out the scissors. The New Yorker inside of me is telling me it's okay to explode. The smell of coffee wafts through my mind as a reminder of what I want; I won't let up until I get it.
Sometimes it is better to push until things go your way than to sit and wait while you are trampled. I may not be the boss at either of my jobs, but I feel that I deserve respect for the amount of work I contribute to each company. On the weekends, I enjoy working so much that it almost doesn't feel like work at all, but so far at this new job during the week I feel like I am fighting my way through each day. Now, there is nothing wrong with working hard and clawing your way to your goals, but there is no point in putting in that kind of effort when you are not compensated for it in a timely manner.
The first of the month looms near and I am broke. I owe my Dad money for my cell phone and insurance, I owe it to my credit score to pay off that stupid card before it goes into interest, I will most likely owe the mechanic money to fix my car (if they ever figure out what is happening to it), and--most importantly--I owe my savings account a sizable deposit. Not to mention that this month is Christmas and I have not even started my shopping.
At this point, I feel that I have put forth enough effort in rectifying this situation as is reasonable, yet I am not content to sit back as I am screwed at every turn.
No comments:
Post a Comment