I used to think what a fine thing it would be to have a paycheck job—you show up, work your hours, and at the end of the month, doesn’t matter what the weather is, you get your money. Now that I have one of those jobs, I see it’s not the rain that’s your worry, but the whims of the boss man. Some of the times, the things you’re asked to do are foolish. Leaves you rolling your eyes, but it can be done. It’s when the boss asks you to do something you know to be wrong and you do it anyways. That sort of work whittles away at the soul.
