I’ve been saying that a lot lately.

When I started working where I work, the department was in serious need of new blood. They were way under staffed, and even after my 6 months training, there was still overtime on the payrolls when I took my place on the schedule. And happened what always happens (Murphy’s laws); people got sick, some had accidents, and we went to the limit of what people can do to make a business run.

At one point, a colleague and I went on a 31 days straight working 12h a day. Crazy? A little… But at some point, I guess it is just like running. You eventually reach a second breath that lets you pull it until the finish line.

“I’m working” was the usual “excuse” for not attending any social event. I know that some people ended up thinking I was just taking the easy way out. It was doubly frustrating. First, I obviously would have preferred chatting over a nice supper over a late evening shift, answering people angry about a printing problem on their lottery terminal. Second, I was busting my b*** to get chéri and I back on track after some not-so-good-economically times…

Then, the company hired, and there was almost no overtime for about 2 years.

Now, with one co-worker having left the ship, and one on sick leave, we’re at it again. This morning, I wondered if I was just whiny because I’m not used to working overtime anymore. I checked my schedules, and since the beginning of the year, I have 8 days off, on a schedule over 49 days. All single days, except for one week end. And most of my shifts are between 10 and 12 hours long…

I don’t write that to bring pity on me… I can always say no.

I just had to let it out, some kind of therapy, you know…