I hate my job

Well, it’s official – I’ve passed the honeymoon phase at my job and I’ve fallen out of love with it. Want to know why? Next week, I have to go to Toronto – not once, but twice. On the first trip, I’m going down with a friend who works at the library in Sudbury, and we’re stuck in a crappy hotel downtown. Once we check in, I’m being dragged out to eat real Thai food and drink martinis, which is hardly anyone’s definition of a good time. Then Wednesday, we’re in meetings all day at this dump, and then it’s back to Sudbury.

Thursday, when I get back, I have to turn around and haul myself down to Markham, for a demonstration at the new branch of the public library – I hear it’s so nice that I might not want to leave. Once I escape from there, it’s down to the family homestead for the rest of the weekend, and then back to the north on Monday. And you know what the worst part is? My CEO was more than happy to let me do all this – in fact, he didn’t even put up a fight when I asked to go. How much does that suck?