It's hard enough asking for any time off, no matter how little it is, however far in advance. Some bosses like to half-jokingly say "no" straight away. One boss straight-up wouldn't let me go to a friend's wedding.
If I get past obstacle one of getting the initial ok, it's usually fitted with the dangling-carrot-of-a-caviat "If you get all your work done, you may attend the ball."
And then the shitstorm.
What follows tends to be an overwhelming tidal wave of exceptionally-urgent assignments under the specialty jurisdiction of one Yerl Ookin-Atter. Sudden waves of inspiration come to the salespeople, with clients crawling out of every nook and cranny begging for complex projects with exorbitant rush fees, each desperate to have their products ASAP-NOWNOW, which of course leads to cut corners in the production line, skipping the sample/proofing process to plunge haphazardly into mindlessly-expedited production requiring specific complicated instructions that only find order in my little brain-noggin. But that carrot dangles away, and it's juuuust close enough that I feel-- what's the word, motivated? And it's after I plan ahead and catch a good rhythm that I see the request for redo's, changed quantities, red instead of green, reasons why an order cannot be completed at this time, last-minute adjustments, and all other obstacles that will block my path to salvation.
... I'm pretty sure that's a curse, to say, "If you... then you may have your reward."
.... Using earned vacation days is a reward?
Granted, this is first world problems, but 1. I spent childhood in school to prep for college. 2. I spent young adulthood in college prepping for work. 3. I spend adulthood in work to get enough money to eat to live longer to work longer, with occasional breaks here and there before spending the majority of my time working, even though I can't afford a house, I can't afford renting a one-bedroom apartment alone, and I spend a decent amount of money on the vehicle used to get me to and from work, which is the majority of my life, for which all previous years have built me up. I can stop the work when my mind and body are thoroughly broken and useless to society.
... Ain't that funny?
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