Depending on my mood, on the day, and on the shift, taking breaks at work can be either a blessing or a curse.
On good days, the paid thirty minutes we are awarded to go to the restroom, grab something to eat, and to sit down for once in right hours is actually like a perfect slice of heaven. However, on bad days, thirty minutes seems more along the lines of a meaningless five seconds. There isn’t enough time for me to take even a halfway decent nap, there isn’t enough time for me to eat my feelings, and there isn’t nearly enough time shaved off from my eight hour shift.
Whether I am complaining or enjoying it, at least I am getting paid.