Working on a Saturday

I am sitting alone in a big building in Dupont Circle. Today, I am the receptionist. One of my many hats.

It's an easy job most Saturdays as the only sounds I hear, other than the music or movie coming from my computer, are the HVAC vents turning on and off and the noises from the streets below. Sometimes it's sirens and honking horns, sometimes it's the subway station bucket drummer trying to earn a buck.

Occasionally the phone rings, but more often than not I end up listening to a computer telling me that this employee or that needs to do something about his car lease or her mortgage. More often I sit here in silence, reading blogs or books or knitting on one of my many, many languishing projects.

While I am grateful for the opportunity to make some overtime, and actually volunteer for this, I am struck by the feeling that I could be doing something better with my day every time I am here.