Newspapers and Overtime
While talking to friends on the green outside our house yesterday evening one of them mentioned that the local newsagent was looking for paperboys and girls to deliver newspapers nearby. A few minutes later I arrived with my youngest daughter. A few minutes after that she had agreed to deliver papers every weekday morning, starting at 6:15am. Ouch.
And so it was that we scraped ourselves out of bed at 5:30am this morning to see her off on her first round. While she was shown the route by a member of staff from the corner shop, I thought “I'm up now, I may as well get on with work” – so I did.
The universe has a funny way of making things work. I have been dreading this week for some time – knowing that several projects have conspired to crash into each other. By working several days in a row from 6am, I'm essentially going to fit three days into two and not lose the evening.
I will admit to being dead on my feet this evening. It didn't help that my youngest got in from college and wanted to go back out to practice her newspaper round route – to try and memorise it a bit better. It only took about half an hour. Her Mum is going out with her tomorrow morning on bicycles to do the route with her.
Working will award her more money than she has ever seen. It will also bring an end to her “pocket money”. We've had a long-standing agreement with the kids that as soon as they start working – in any form – pocket money stops.
Anyway. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go watch some rubbish on the television, find something to eat for supper, and then collapse into bed before doing it all again tomorrow.