An honest day’s job
I have done an honest day’s job. Now I must close shop and head home for a darling, darling night. I may grab some chicken and chips along the way and perhaps a glass of cold passion juice. I must confess that is my favourite meal. An honest day’s job makes me vey happy, deeply satisfied, quite fulfilled…
I do not want to sit in someone’s office and get treated like a sad, hungry dog. I would rather do my own job, but an honest day’s job. I do not want to feel like a sad cat that has been denied milk and biscuits because the Boss wants to drive me like a slave on a sugarcane plantation. I like my glass of milk everyday, very cold!
I do not want to mint millions through dishonest means and walk around with a pair of huge goggles and bodyguards. I enjoy my privacy too much. Just a walk in the path with my dog Happy and peals of laughter to fill my soul.
I do not want to be treated like some overworked donkey, just because someone pays me a salary.
I do not want to be treated with disrespect and denied time to go out for lunch just to finish an impromptu deadline report. I hate it when the Boss calls me everytime I enter the bathroom and I have to rush and finish some dishonest work.
I hate to do other people’s work and watch them get credit on my behalf. I hate it too when someone denies me access to the office phone and restricts my conversation to three minutes. Yet no one complains when I work overtime and don’t pay me nothing for it. I am not worth three minutes, just worth an honest day’s job.
I do not want to forge receipts or make claims for trips I have not made. Or cheat the tax collector that the Boss is in Intensive Care Unit or on a trip abroad.
And so I say, keep all your money for what it is worth but let me do an honest day’s job.