February 13, 2005
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Work it baby, work it…
I have been trudging through this rough work weekend with the aplomb of a Spartan frontliner. In at ten, out at ten or one or eight. Fast forwarding through hours of hey for that needle in the rough.
I will remember these days as the time in my life where I just worked my ass off. It’s been a year or so of this. Late hours weekends, and all at the drop of the hat—I have my coat on a Friday night, ready to enjoy the weekend, and bam, the call comes in and I get swamped with no time off.
As bad as it gets, I feel proud. I have accomplished so much since graduation. My knowledge base has increased technologically one thousand fold. My knowledge of intraoffice politics, how to go up a corporate chain now has actual experience. My psychological strength in times of heavy stress has been tested enough that I can handle whatever impossibility gets thrown my way. Adulthood. Not the full adulthood of mortgage and kids stylee, but definitely a departure from the care free days of the collegiate quasigrown up- still-a-child-really world.
I am a twenty something young professional, working his ass off. And surprise, surprise, it feels good. Whuddathunkit?
