Sometimes...

...I just can't help but think if this is all worth it.

My work, I mean.

What am I doing here so late anyway (and for the second straight night at that)? I've only had an hour's worth of sleep today...seriously...but here I am, busting my ass off, maybe on the verge of killing myself. And for what? Experience? Well, that's always been a given. Honor and prestige, maybe boost my chances for a promotion? I don't know...maybe. Or maybe I'm really just that dedicated.

But you know what? No matter how bad it sounds, whether I like the whole idea of it or not, I've begun to accept that there is one other reason why I am putting up with all the crap of my job.

It's the goddamn money.

To tell you the truth, since these long hours became more frequent, I've had many battles with myself over this. I've been through all the "it shouldn't be about the money" drama. And I'm sad to admit that I may be losing the war to the materialistic side of me.

Can you really blame me for wanting more? I mean, I have this supposedly generous compensation that I can't even share with my parents and siblings because most of it goes to the monthly rent, utilities, and all these stupid taxes. I am barely left with some for myself. Things just get a little lighter when I get my OT pay on time...extra emphasis on the "on time" part though.

My failure to be of significant financial help to my immediate family is what has most likely pushed my Dad, the only doctor I've idolized my whole life, to join the bandwagon and pursue a nursing degree. What kind of message do you think that sends to an eldest child? It's depressing.

In my quiet moments I figured that sidelining as a Graphic Artist would definitely boost the finances, but given my exceptionally busy (and weird) schedule, the plan just kind of got flushed down the toilet. So, I'm now thinking of just selling some of my comics. Or my car.

*Sigh* I am in dire need of sleep.