I feel violated

If you know me at all, you have likely heard me proclaim at least once that I am not, nor will ever be, one of those "lives to work" types. It's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just really don't see any scenario where work will start to become more important to me than family, friends, or even hobbies, like piping.

Now, that said, I still take my job seriously, and as such, sometimes things don't work out exactly as you'd like. More specifically, there arise cases where I will have no option but to work on the weekend.

Tomorrow will be the first time I have worked a weekend since high school when I worked in the Loblaws bakery. I'm not kidding. I have always been able to avoid it by putting in a little extra time during the week, but tomorrow came up more as a result of project timing than anything else. See, there's a 134' diameter steel tank on Keele Street, just North of Finch, that is being filled with water as I type this. I actually just got home from checking on it. Yes, check the time stamp. I haven't fiddled with it. And the project managers from Petro-Canada and the supplier of the floating roof are both going to be at the site between 11am and noon tomorrow, and so I kinda have to be there, too.

Oh well. I managed to last over three years gainfully employed in a field where overtime is pretty standard stuff (Justin and Pat have been working weekends for as long as I can remember) before having my Weekend Work Cherry popped.

Can't win 'em all....