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Must I? Again?

I am tired. I am tired because of work.  I am tired of having to be on my feet for ten hours straight. I wake up at 6 a.m., off to work at 7 a.m., and get home at almost 6 p.m. So for the average week day, I'm lucky to have four hours a day to actually try to have a life before I must go to bed and then start over. My feet are killing me, but I don't want to buy new shoes until I get my yearly voucher. Another six weeks to go. If I could find another job I would, but nothing around here pays nearly as much, and that's the catch, you see. "Here, we'll throw some money at you, but in return we get to treat you with a lack of respect and with much condescension, and make you feel like nothing is ever good enough." Is money really that important? Sadly, it is. I'm stuck until I have enough of a nest egg that I can take a chance and try to fly.