Like most associates, my life is ruled by the billable hour. Not meeting the yearly billable requirement means no bonus and the threat of no raise. Meeting the requirement means you get the nod for meeting the bare minimum. If you're crazy enough to exceed the quota for the year by more than 100 hours, you get a few extra bucks...
1960 hours for the year. 163.3 for the month. which breaks down into roughly 40 hours a week and 8 hours a day.
Everything is recorded down to the nearest tenth of an hour. It's amazing how quickly your mind adapts to thinking this way. I get pissed off standing in line for 15 minutes waiting for my morning latte knowing I'll have to make up this .3 somewhere during the course of the day. If the waiter is particularly slow bringing the check and lunch takes 1.2 hours instead of an hour, he gets a smaller tip. In the morning as I roll over to slap the snooze button, I think to myself "it's okay. It's only a .1."
And as I drift back to sleep, I can't help but think how life is so much better, so much sweeter, so much more enjoyable when it's not lived in 6 minute increments.
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