Work means so many different things to so many different people. Some people get up early each morning and fight traffic to get to work. Other's roll out of bed and sit at a computer, complaining about how hard it is to work at home. Work could be chasing after a 2 year old or trying to reason with a 5 year old. Or, it could mean chasing after a non paying client or trying to reason with a 40 year old boss. Some people are stressed because they hate their work. Others are stressed because they are out of work and looking for it. Some people lie through their nasty little teeth about how much they love their work. They are usually the kind of people that I end up working for. I hate them almost as much as I hate my work.
My sister is one of those people who rolls out of bed to her computer so she can be creative and come up with movie and TV scripts. I don't think that's very hard work. In fact, I think my work is fodder for her work. I think that my work serves only to create dialogue for the TV show 'The Office'. It's just too coincidental how the things that go on in my office end up as story lines and dialogue on 'The Office'. Oh sure, they change the names and sometimes make a guy a girl, and visa versa. But it's the same. I'm pretty sure when my sister finishes with her tough day at the office, ie her living room, she unwinds at happy hour with a bunch of other writers and regails them with the news of MY day. And then it ends up on shows like, The Office. (My whole life used to play out on the comedy, Ally McBeal. I guess my sister's friends must have moved on to new writing gigs).
Anyway, I'm on to you, sis. And while we're at it, some of my friends would like it if you stopped turning their real life work drama's into your story lines. In particular, my friend (well, to protect her privacy, lets just call her....Ainsley), a nurse, says she has never, EVER, (or, maybe her words were hardly ever that much) had sex with a hot doc in the supply room of the E/R. And my friend, (um, lets call her...Stacy), a flirty female exec, has never 'serviced' the Fed Ex delivery man. Our relative (lets go with Maureen), a stay at home Mom, never chased down neighbors - to the point of driving up onto the lawn - to find out where she could 'cop her some good nanny'. (Well, that may have happened. Maureen tends to get what she wants).
Anyway, we like to hate our work in our own ways and want you to stop making other people laugh and enjoy themselves by entertaining them with our four letter words. (and we'd also feel pretty good if, every once in a while, you had to deal with traffic to get to your work).