It is Monday and you are again back at your desk, working, working, working, always with the excessive working, although, when you consider the alternative–with the government cheese you would be eating, and the hand-her-downs your youngest daughter, “The Complainer”, would be wearing–it is not that bad. So, you lower your head and soldier on, for the benefit of those you love, and because the job is not all that bad, not really. The bit boring at times, the bit frustrating, the bit exasperating, but not bad. You’ve had worse. Like, for the example, that first job you had just…