I'm having a rough day here: a too-long subway ride this morning, many things to do today before my Frankfurt trip, including a run up to the vet to exchange a bag of one type of cat food for another, and even a meeting that's sure to be tedious. But that's a picnic compared to this tale of the day in the life of an investment banker. I'm exhausted after just reading it -- I can't fathom what it would be like to live it. The accompanying article explains that the author no longer works for the unmentioned employer. He took a substantial pay cut to go to a job with regular hours. Anytime I start thinking that my compensation pales in comparison to what the associates here make, I need to remember that I get to go home at a regular hour and keep my weekends for myself. That's better than any sum of money.
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