Are you a stenographer, typist, bookkeeper, or an office clerk of some
kind who goes to work at a certain time every morning, rain or shine? Do
you take a few sandwiches along and eat lunch at your desk or in a rest
room, or do you go to a cheap restaurant? You have a certain time to
stop working each day. Do you dread the long afternoon—how lonesome and
monotonous!—checking figures, typing letters, filing papers, or doing
some other routine work which you have done so often? How you long for
five o’clock to come! Not because you are lazy, but because you are
human. Because it is not human for anyone to go on and on doing the same
monotonous work day after day without becoming weary and discouraged.
And then Saturday comes. How much is in your pay envelope? After you pay
your living expenses, how much is left for you to buy the things which
make life so bright for a young girl? When you go out on Sunday and see
so many girls wearing fine clothes and associating with cultured people,
what do you think? Do you think of the past weeks of discouraging work?
Do you think of your clothes, your kind of friends, your home life and
your meager earnings? At times you must look ahead, away off into the
gloomy future. Monday morning you awake feeling blue, tired and
discouraged with the dreadful thought of the office, the irritable
employer who scolds, the same faces looking at you, the same monotonous
routine.