Overtime

I look forward to the day that I have a job that requires me to work overtime. I am going to eat it up for everything that it is. As much as I like my job, it's a push over. In the scale of how serious my job is, it scales slightly above a clown on a unicycle.

When do I come in? Whenever I can.
When do I clock out? Whenever I need to.
How many breaks do I get? How many breaks do I want?

All things considering, my job is happy to have a warm body that will do the job, and they're not that picky after that point. It's a great thing to have, but at the same time, I feel like I'm getting slightly taken advantage of at the same time.

This is my third time that I wrote this rant, and seeing as no matter which way I write it, it starts to get picky and things get messy, I'm not going to go into it so I can save myself from unneeded arguments in the near future. Let's just say that I look forward to being able to work a full work day, if not a few extra hours at the end of the day. I think it will be a very interesting day when I call home and say that I won't be home for an extra hour or two because work has kept me and I have to finish something because someone just wanted to talk to me.