An Hourly Wage
Some time ago, I joined the ranks of the hourly-rated workers, one of the many elderly who while away their time in minor episodes between bouts of extreme excitement and terror. The life of an hourly-rated worker is a difficult one; you only earn wages for each hour of work completed.
This means that you don't draw a salary for doing nothing. A long time ago, I observed that if I were ill, sub-par, or otherwise temporarily incapacitated, I would continue to draw a salary which I did not deserve. This was a perk of the inefficiency of the workplace. Some people I knew, despite being hopelessly incompetent, nevertheless continued to draw a healthy draught of cash from the circulatory system of the world.
Nowadays, a sore throat or a strained back, and my earnings are somewhat curtailed. This gives me a huge incentive to stay healthy. It also inspires me to look for other projects and assignments — tasks to which I can turn my resources (which a few nice people tell me are sometimes formidable, sometimes even intimidating) and my interests, with some advantage.
Despite such difficulties, I am happy. At least I now know I am earning a fair wage and not being a parasite on the body of the masses, unlike some people. At the same time, I feel for those of my former colleagues and peers who, despite working hard and well, do not receive the emoluments nor recognition for a job well done.
Ah well. I am off to earn some wages now.
This means that you don't draw a salary for doing nothing. A long time ago, I observed that if I were ill, sub-par, or otherwise temporarily incapacitated, I would continue to draw a salary which I did not deserve. This was a perk of the inefficiency of the workplace. Some people I knew, despite being hopelessly incompetent, nevertheless continued to draw a healthy draught of cash from the circulatory system of the world.
Nowadays, a sore throat or a strained back, and my earnings are somewhat curtailed. This gives me a huge incentive to stay healthy. It also inspires me to look for other projects and assignments — tasks to which I can turn my resources (which a few nice people tell me are sometimes formidable, sometimes even intimidating) and my interests, with some advantage.
Despite such difficulties, I am happy. At least I now know I am earning a fair wage and not being a parasite on the body of the masses, unlike some people. At the same time, I feel for those of my former colleagues and peers who, despite working hard and well, do not receive the emoluments nor recognition for a job well done.
Ah well. I am off to earn some wages now.
etched with acid at 9:21:00 am
4 Comments:
yeah. it wasn't the wage they were drawing that 'ticked' me off. it was the time they made me waste and the environment they destroyed by giving me tonnes of notes that read like textbooks
P0litik: Haha, then again, it's 'market forces'. If the clients demand (or appear to demand) such things, then such things will be supplied. Shifting the paradigm (for example, by minimising the note load, encouraging students to write their own notes, teaching creatively via metaphor and analogy) becomes expensive and possibly fatal to the teacher.
Ah! Right glad I am that I am one of those 'parasites', although I like to think of myself as a rather benign (and beknighted) symbiote. If you don't need me (and my colleagues), you might be tempted to cut me out of the system. But when you need me, you really, really need me.
Guess that's why they pay me my princely (not!) wages. Ha ha ha.
Albrecht: haha, leukocytes don't count as parasites, even though they share a phoneme.
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