OMG

I know, it's a lame title for a blog post, but that's the current state of my mind. I just got home after working from 10:30 to 10:30. Thats not zero hours, that twelve. Why would I agree to work twelve hours? That's a good question, and it has a cheesy answer: because they needed me. They really did.

Today was opening day at the amusement park and it was crazy. This year we have season passes, and they seem to be all the rage. So much that from 9:30 am to 10:30 pm, there was a massive line in the building where season passes are sold. I'm pretty sure I have never done that much work at the amusement park, and definitely not this year. I think this was karma's way of making up for my completely boring work week.

So, I worked twelve hours. What did I gain? A new day to compare what others consider to be very busy days, a shiny plastic coin that states "You've been caught being good!" that enables me to claim a gift card or some other prize from the human resources, and a general feeling that I accomplished something at work today. Because honestly, if I'm doing nothing at work, it feels like I'm not even working.

When it comes down to it, I would rather be way to busy and stressed than not busy at all.