Overtime

I'm usually the first guy to leave the office. I calmly wait for 630pm and then BAM! I'm out like that shit I had in grade school. Poot proot poot peroot. Miggy Reyes still thinks it's chocolate.

I had my first overtime yesterday. And it completely sucked ass because aside from the last 10 minutes when my boss assigned me the midnight work, I was completely free. I was boring myself reading articles on the Lakers' victory, reading blogs of friends of friends of friends and playing my ass off with text twist.
I was so free that day, that it was foolish to think I was getting paid for this shit.

And so I waited for 630, like I always did until my boss... the real boss... the one with the power to fire anyone... called me and asked me to construct a questionnaire for a new project on powdered milk.
This happened at 6:22pm... I remembered it, because that's when I completely and silently lost my nerve.
So I stayed. Usually, for a questionnaire... we need two days to make one of quality. I needed less than 12 hours as my boss had her all important meeting before lunchtime the next day.

Fuck it.

Lesson learned... when boss approaches desk, pretend to drop a ballpen and duck the fuck down.

Because, for rich-lookin' guys like me, the only thing worse than commuting through the metro, is commuting through the metro at midnight.