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How do you rank your job?

How do I rank my job?

By not showering for days and then jogging to work.
 
Suddenly said:
How do I rank my job?

By not showering for days and then jogging to work.

No, that's how you BECOME rank in your job.

Me, I'm in advertising. When you spend 8 hours a day in a utopia of your own creation, you're always thrilled. Particularly on the 15th and 30th, when reality briefly intersects with fantasy.
 
Jocko said:
No, that's how you BECOME rank in your job.

Me, I'm in advertising. When you spend 8 hours a day in a utopia of your own creation, you're always thrilled. Particularly on the 15th and 30th, when reality briefly intersects with fantasy.

Advertising? You may actually be more full of crap at the office than I am. :p

Other than that I spend at least 8 hours a day in a nightmare of someone else's creation.
 
I get to use the coolest tech toys and create things that forward scientific research and teach students. Couldn't be happier.
 
Errrr, right now I only earn meager interest on some bank accounts .....

Charlie (will code for food) Monoxide
 
More money than discipline here. Shipped three games this year. Even got paid. Got enough money not to do anything for a year. Probably the money/discipline equation will balance the other way when a little more of the cash disappears into bills while waiting for next round of contracts/work to materialize.

Should be doing something about making money without those other people. Instead, spending days screwing around on-line.
 
Charlie Monoxide said:
Errrr, right now I only earn meager interest on some bank accounts .....
Let me guess - you start working when the snow starts falling.
 
Let's see...

My wife is a team leader where she works. I'm a coder (i.e., if I worked where she does, she'd be my boss. Well, she is anyway, but that's another story).
  • My wife works 50-60 hours a week. I work 40.
  • My wife regularly brings work home. I regularly bring my empty backpack home, having eaten lunch.
  • My wife uses our home high-speed internet connection to log onto her computer at work using remote desktop. My agency hasn't adopted remote desktop for high-speed home access because of security considerations. Of late, my wife often spends the entire weekend running jobs from her home PC. I ran jobs from home recently during a two week period while I was recuperating from surgery, using a dial-up connection.
  • My wife is a contractor, so she has to account for what she's done once a week. I'm a GS'er, so I have to account for what I've done twice a year, at mid-year and end-of-year review.
  • I get 26 days of vacation a year. My wife... doesn't.
  • My wife has to travel to meetings with contracting agency people once or twice a week. I have to travel to the cafeteria across the hall.
  • My wife wakes up every night worrying about work, and often has trouble getting back to sleep. I wake up every night to go to the bathroom and sometimes fall asleep before I get back into bed.
  • For all that extra responsibility, work, worry, and aggravation, my wife makes only a couple of thousand bucks more per year than I do.
And she likes her job. So why shouldn't I love mine?
 
Network admin at a medium sized manufacturing company. Love the job, but hate driving 90 miles a day to get there and back.
 
BPSCG said:
Let me guess - you start working when the snow starts falling.
Perhaps you should apply for the $1,000,000 challenge. Right now I'm in South Lake Tahoe, and I plan to get out before the snow flies. Hopefully into some gainful employment near the coast where there's rain and fog, but no snow.

I was out-sourced to India/Poland a couple of months back. Like evildave, I have enough money to kick back for about a year. Unfortunately it gets a tad boring and I miss work.

Charlie (getting use to the new economy) Monoxide
 
Charlie Monoxide said:


I was out-sourced to India/Poland a couple of months back. Like evildave, I have enough money to kick back for about a year. Unfortunately it gets a tad boring and I miss work.


So how come you've managed to keep a sense of humor and a solid grasp on reality, while evildave's turned into such a gigantic, world-hating prong? Maybe you could share some living tips with him to help him out of his little funk.
 
Charlie Monoxide said:
Perhaps you should apply for the $1,000,000 challenge.
Nah - I saw your location, figured you were a ski instructor or something (isn't the true explanation always boring?). As it happens, I'm leading a Christmas-to-New Year's trip for our club (www.scwdc.org) out there in December, which is part of the reason South Lake Tahoe caught my eye.
 
Jocko said:
So how come you've managed to keep a sense of humor and a solid grasp on reality, while evildave's turned into such a gigantic, world-hating prong? Maybe you could share some living tips with him to help him out of his little funk.
Here's why (and Jocko, you should have realized this):

We plodded on, two or three hours longer, and at last the Lake burst upon us--a noble sheet of blue water lifted six thousand three hundred feet above the level of the sea, and walled in by a rim of snow-clad mountain peaks that towered aloft full three thousand feet higher still! It was a vast oval, and one would have to use up eighty or a hundred good miles in traveling around it. As it lay there with the shadows of the mountains brilliantly photographed upon its still surface I thought it must surely be the fairest picture the whole earth affords...

...Three months of camp life on Lake Tahoe would restore an Egyptian mummy to his pristine vigor, and give him an appetite like an alligator. I do not mean the oldest and driest mummies, of course, but the fresher ones. The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be?--it is the same the angels breathe. I think that hardly any amount of fatigue can be gathered together that a man cannot sleep off in one night on the sand by its side. Not under a roof, but under the sky; it seldom or never rains there in the summer time. I know a man who went there to die. But he made a failure of it. He was a skeleton when he came, and could barely stand. He had no appetite, and did nothing but read tracts and reflect on the future. Three months later he was sleeping out of doors regularly, eating all he could hold, three times a day, and chasing game over mountains three thousand feet high for recreation. And he was a skeleton no longer, but weighed part of a ton. This is no fancy sketch, but the truth. His disease was consumption. I confidently commend his experience to other skeletons.


From Roughing It, by Mark Twain
 

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