The Clash of the Careers
Even before I started the management training program, I was tired as hell. Between the forty+ hrs/wk day job and the thirty plus hrs/wk night job (writing, not stripping, you freaking perverts), I only caught up on sleep on Friday nights. The day job kills off a piece of my soul every day, so by the time I get home I’m tired as fuck. Throw in the writing, the blogging, the networking, the search for advertisers who will make me more than twenty-three cents a month, and all the energy I have for “going out” on Saturdays consists of girlfriends and pizza. And not moving.
And now there’s the fucking training program, which at the moment takes up about fourteen hours a week (not counting all the studying I sneak in at work when left unattended), and it’s only going to get worse as each presentation deadline looms. I’m running out of hours. I’m not a surgeon or a mother. I can’t do hundred-hour work weeks.
I feel like I have three jobs. And no life.
Oh I haven’t gotten laid in months either. I’m getting fucking mean.
