I might miss these four-day weekends. Ever so slightly. But for the fact that they imply a subsequent workweek. I won’t miss the Sunday blues (or terrors) I get in anticipation of that upcoming workweek.
My goal is to make it so that every day for me is the weekend. Hence, retirement. Presuming no other source of income other than a military pension and some disability rating, I could structure my life around that. I wouldn’t need another job. I could afford to want one.
I’d pursue a graduate degree just for the sake of eating up time, and using the Post-9/11 GI Bill. The program comes with a monthly housing allowance equivalent to that of a Sergeant (E-5) for the zip code of the school.
On top of those four benefits (pension, disability, GI Bill, housing allowance), there exist other benefits at the state and even municipal levels (county and city).
I got to work today and found myself responsible for the whole section, and probably for the next few weeks. The boss’s boss went away for a bit. So my boss had to fill in. And I did as well.
Thing is, she usually keeps me in the dark about work. Even when I ask. Maybe she thinks she’s allowing me due discretion. Or maybe she’s just that clueless. Either way, that’s my cue to make shit up. And I did.
I can only do that so much. I had a meeting to attend that required expertise from my section. I didn’t have it. But I acquired it after the meeting and supplied the requested info soon after. It was a win.
For some reason, this is the norm. Starting from scratch. The right people disappearing and no one else knowing the last person did.
Nope. Not going to miss this.