My youngest sister, Kathy, has been a nurse for at least a couple of decades. A while ago she decided to take on the night shift, but soon discovered that she was not night shift material.
After working two shifts in a row, her boss told her that she had made an appointment for Kathy with a financial planner. Kathy pleaded with her boss to cancel the meeting, because she was overly tired, but the meeting went on as scheduled.
The gorgeous young model-type man in a 3-piece suit sat across from Kathy, who was by now leaning on the desk for support in an attempt to appear awake. The financial planner spoke about Kathy’s 403b plan and continued on in a very professional manner.
The conversation veered off in other directions too, such as how he worked constantly. Kathy just wanted to go home to sleep and she knew she had to first drive there. Wishing for the conversation to end, but being polite, she continued to talk to him about her 403b plan and his excessive work schedule.
At one point she couldn’t help but draw a correlation between the young man and her son who was about the same age. “You remind me of my son,” Kathy told the financial planner. “He’s an alcoholic too.”
Not until she saw the strange look on his face did she blurt out, “Workaholic! I meant workaholic.”
Kathy now works the day shift again.
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