It's 3:26am, and the last thing I want to do is print material for a class I'm covering. I don't know why I now wait until the last two free hours of my morning. There's something about not wanting the intrusion, combined with a never-ending resentment over using my ink for school. Ink. It drives me crazy. I have to go to Staples to get it because I have a portable printer and it's also expensive.
I should bring the printer with me to school and I did once but I had nothing to print that day. I begged a colleague to let me print something she was handwriting just to feel like I hadn't carried the little toy in vain.
There isn't any hope of good faith anymore. Used to be, you did a job and you felt good about it and, at least, you'd earned your right to it under your union contract. Since my status is defined as indefinite, it's hard for me to want to do anything until I have to do so -- just in case I'm replaced in a few hours.
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