It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work: it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours. I love to keep it by me: the idea of getting rid of it nearly breaks my heart.
You cannot give me too much work; to accumulate work has almost become a passion with me: my study is so full of it now, that there is hardly an inch of room for any more. I shall have to throw out a wing soon.
And I am careful of my work, too. Why, some of the work that I have by me now has been in my possession for years and years, and there isn't a finger-mark on it. I take a great pride in my work; I take it down now and then and dust it. No man keeps his work in a better state of preservation than I do.
But, though I crave for work, I still like to be fair. I do not ask for more than my proper share.
But I get it without asking for it - at least, so it appears to me - and this worries me.
This blog grew out of participation in the Minnesota 23 Things On a Stick program and has a eye on how all of this Web 2.0 stuff matters to archives and special collections. If you don't get the "on a stick" part of the title, just visit the Minnesota State Fair: all the good stuff to eat is served on a stick. The views and opinions in this blog are my own and do not represent the views, opinions or policies of my employer.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Jerome K. Jerome, on work
I came across this passage while reading "Three Men in a Boat," by Jerome K. Jerome. It had me in stitches (and still does, every time I read it). From Chapter XV:
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