To work or not to work – That is the question:
Whether ‘Tis politer in the mind to tolerate the insults
And listen to the complaints of annoying customers,
Or to resign from my job entirely
And by quitting, rest or study for school. To work, to quit—
No more—and by showing up to work I face
The same old same old preparations for customers
That each day holds.—‘Tis a situation
I do not wish to face. To work, to quit—
To quit, perhaps to rest. Ay, there’s the problem,
For in quitting what events may come about
When we have no money to have fun
Must make us all think. That’s the thought
That makes disaster of an invite to a Girls Night Out.
For who really wants to work a long 8 hour shift,
Deal with the annoyance of refolding clothes, the crabby managers,
The disappointment of an empty break room, the cheapness of supplies,
The overly dramatic co-worker, and the grimacing looks
That the customers send my way when looking at their totals,
When they too, may work
And go through the same things I have to? Who would want this,
To walk in the same exact steps every day,
But the dread of being broke,
The thought of spending weekends alone or
The realization of the fact that we don’t have a life,
Wishing that we did have some sort of job for cash
Instead of seeking those wasted days of being lazy?
Thus the chance of missing out on a fun night does make us want to work,
And thus happiness of being with friends
Is tainted by thoughts of how I cannot afford it,
And peaceful moments of a full account, and no worries of overdrafts
With this regard their trails lead no where
And lose the delight I could