A peculiar kind of sanity.

When I was employed. As a writer. For newspapers. I seldom put in for overtime pay. Even though I was entitled to it. Because that violated my principle. That I owed it to my employer  and to myself to put in extra effort. Without monetary compensation.  I tried to think of work as something other than work. More like pleasure. And that was my reward. Maybe that makes me a bit crazy. But so be it. I’m still doing it. As retiree. Writing purely for pleasure. Living. For the pleasure of it. Yes, I have found a crazy way to live. Which, I suppose, could be construed as a peculiar kind of sanity. –Jim Broede