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While some of us awake at the crack of dawn and drag ourselves to jobs that we hate, others have the luxury of sleeping until noon, enjoying their second or third cup of coffee while still in their pajamas, and catching up on all their daytime soap operas. A friend of mine is one of those people in the latter category. Of course, lack of money persuaded her to actually set her alarm and get up early one morning this week to head off for a job interview.

She applied to a telemarketing company for a 'Magazine Renewal Specialist' position, and was offered the job on the spot. And while she admitted that she had hit rock bottom by actually accepting a telemarketing job, luxuries like 'food' were becoming hard to purchase. So she reported to work the next day to complete her mandatory training.

She was ushered into a room with about a dozen other new employees. Their trainer, a middle aged Japanese man named Yan, began his speech about the company and what their daily responsibilities would be, when she pulled out a pen to jot down a few notes. It was at this point that Yan abruptly stopped.

"Oh no, no, no, no...There are no pens or pencils allowed here. Everything needed is on computer screen. No need to write." And he swept up the aisle and confiscated her pen. Thinking that 'pens' somehow breached a confidentiality restriction, she sat and listened attentively...trying to commit everything to memory since she wouldn't have any notes that she could refer to later.

After about half an hour, Yan decided that a break was in order, and he took this chance to discuss 'break time' procedures with the group of trainees.

"Breaks all at 10:30 and last 10 minutes. Whole office goes together at same time. You allowed in main hallway, but not outside office. Must stay in hallway. If need to use bathroom, you must get key card from manager."

She later found out that these guidelines were in place because the company employed several work-release people from the county jail. After carefully weighing this new information, she decided that this would be her first and last day at work.

"You know," she later told me, "it wasn't even so much the fact that I'd be working with convicts, but more that my health insurance wouldn't kick in for 60 days. If someone decided to file down a tape dispenser or something and then stab me with it, I wouldn't be covered for the hospital visit that I'd need!"

So it appears that she'll continue to be sleeping in late and strapped for cash. But at least she won't have any gaping flesh wounds to contend with.