Then I got another contract extension.
On the bright side, the world still has somebody who works to “do good”.
On the dark side, Demigod thinks he is entitled to treat me as a slave more than he did.
On the “oh, come on, let’s be practical” side, I will still have money to buy food at the end of this year.
Sounds good enough for a Monday morning.
Thursday was a holiday.
Friday most people decided to take an extra day off, and have a long weekend. Sweet.
I was one of the many.
The many who decided to take the Friday off, but…
Wednesday afternoon, around five, call from Demigod.
Trembling, I pick up the phone, and there he goes with his “did-you-want-to-leave-early?-muahuahuahuah” requests: write a speech for a conference, reply to a message he won’t be bothered to read, collect and analyse financial data on whatever it was…
I reply sure, it will all be ready by Monday, we can have a quick check then.
Monday? did I hear well? I want to discuss these things with you on Friday. Did anyone say you could take a day off on Friday? wait, I have a call on the other line, will call you back…
Now, I don’t want to split hairs, but my contract says I work from home and have to come to the office only for meetings. I am not supposed to be here everyday. And I do. So actually working from home every now and then should not be an issue, in my humble opinion.
Little did I know that with each extension I would have become more of a slave and less of a consultant.
I knew better than to argue with him, so I waited for him to call back.
Six thirty I was still waiting. Put my coat on and went to Demigod’s Office.
He was gone.
Friday morning – still tired from a wonderful dinner that had turned into late night chat and a long drive – I was at my desk.
Call to Demigod. No answer.
Call to Demigod, again. No answer, again.
Lunchtime, still no trace of him.
It felt great to take the afternoon off, after all.