I Broke

No, that’s not a typo.

I said a few times here I like my job, and I do. But much like my previous job, that doesn’t mean I like what they do.

Something I recently realized is we have “6ft sensors”, but the metal detectors were disabled and uninstalled to encourage “social distancing”. So, no one can be within six feet of someone else, but someone can walk in with a weapon and assault someone or open fire. And yes, this did happen at one location, although the employee opened fire in the parking lot.

Having already lived through one workplace shooting, I really don’t want get caught in another.

Safety issues aside, I enjoyed my job a lot more before March. But it’s not just the supposed precautions (also, someone else touching what I want to eat instead of me is gross; “safety”, my ass on that one!).

Temporarily, they added an extra hour to our work days. You’d think an extra hour wouldn’t be a big deal, but it is. I’d prefer an extra day to stumbling around my station like I’m drunk. For a place supposedly obsessed with safety, they certainly think nothing of overtired employees operating their machinery and walking around the warehouse. And, you know, driving.

I also received a write-up for something neither I nor the manager who issued it remembers. I don’t know how that works.

The final straw was watching a friend successfully get a position I’d been asking about for months and never got a clear answer on, despite both of us being there for the same amount of time and having no prior experience. I am always happy for my friends, and even the team I was trying to join continually pushed for me to be added. On top of this, it turns out to do any position, even one on the same level, I’ll more than likely to have to transfer to another building every time I want to.

I snapped.

Even at my previous job, I worked various positions without having to transfer. I did everything that wasn’t management.

But none of that was the clincher that made me decide I want to return to part-time or quit wholly. No, the clincher was when I learned I can make more money with rideshare. After taxes.

The danger of that is lack of insurance, but turns out you can buy health and life insurances, and not have them tied to employment. That solves that problem.

Still, I don’t want to decrease my schedule for the sake of working less. Part of it is I’ve taken up studying again since lockdown has tendered my trade school useless (well, my current job did that too). I like learning on my own time, and since I don’t want to repeat the school/work/sleep cycle if I don’t have to. I don’t even play my Sims game much anymore because I prefer practice. That was unexpected.

If I cannot transfer (again…) or return to part-time, I will try to hold out at my job until January. But if my efforts ultimately change nothing, I consider myself done.

More Work, Fewer Paychecks

So far, my new position as full-time has been good. There’s only one problem I was unaware of before transferring: full-time employees are paid bi-weekly.

Bad.

Yes, I know being paid bi-weekly means a bigger paycheck, but that’s a big duh because it’s payment for two weeks instead of one. I prefer getting paid weekly, and if anything, that’s encouragement to return to my old site as soon as I no longer need full-time hours (although I’ll ask if pay is still weekly before transferring!). That’s also, for me, less motivation to go any higher than I am now… especially since the pay rate switches from hourly to salary at certain levels. I will be absolutely damned if I work overtime and am essentially on call for no extra money. I will not work twelve hours and get paid for eight. No! And yes, salary is cheaper than hourly for that reason, so companies do it.

In the realm of first world problems, however, I’m disappointed I now have only two Fridays to look forward too. The other two are bland. Getting my paycheck would motivate me to go to work to make more money, and after the getting over the hurdle of the weekend and Monday, I’d look forward to Friday being close again. Now, that happiness is thirteen days away instead of six. It definitely makes me miss my old site, and makes me envious of my boyfriend, who still gets to joyfully await his paycheck in the pre-dawn hours of every Friday.

Yes, I know bi-weekly pay is cheaper for companies and that’s why they do it. Why else would companies advertise weekly pay as a perk of a job? It is one of those perks that entices me and I would leave my current job in a heartbeat if I found a full-time job that pays weekly. Considering the apparent rarity, if such a job worked out, that company would have me for a long time.

The easy answer would be give myself something else to look forward to on the Fridays I don’t get paid, but I work Saturday to Tuesday, so that’s easier said than done. However, I am trying to switch my schedule to Monday to Thursday, so I always have weekends off. Then, I’ll definitely have something to look forward to every Friday.

Posted in Work. Tags: , , , , , . Comments Off on More Work, Fewer Paychecks

The Misery Olympics

Warning: This post is unkind. Please skip if you dislike foul language and insults.

Read the rest of this entry »

No, I Don’t Care About Your Corporate Visit

Not any more than you care about my safety anyway.

One of the benefits of having a low traffic blog. I’m positive no one at work knows this blog exists, let alone reads it. Even if they do, I don’t hold a weapon to anyone’s head and force them to read it.

No, I don’t care about your corporate visit. You don’t pay me enough to care.

Your corporate sucks. When have they done anything to make life easier for the employees? Don’t answer that.

Actually, do answer that. I’ll wait.

Why is a part-time person scheduled for 30 hours to begin with? Isn’t there a reason it’s called part-time? Forgive me, but last I remember, full-time was a big dud for me. Supposedly, I was too awful to remain in that position part-time either. I can’t have been that terrible if I’m still thrown on the floor for your corporate visits.

“We need you.” No, you don’t. If one employee leaving thirty minutes early makes that much of a difference in preparation for your silly visit, you’re already doomed. When are you not in need? As much as I hate call outs, I don’t blame them one bit. I’d call out too if I didn’t need the money.

You pay me to stand behind a counter, ring people, and take money. And if my knowledge is correct, new cashiers make the same wage I do now, whereas I started out lower. I guess that’s one good thing to come out of my failed promotion. Had I never asked, my wage would’ve never gone up. How fair. I hope I don’t need to add a sarcasm tag to that.

“Look at all the people you’ve served over the years.” So, what? Anyone with a pulse and lack of mobility problems can be a cashier. Why is this called “serving”? This is not an all-important job. This is not the military. It’s supporting people’s spending habits. Nothing more.

You always need help. You never have enough. Why, I don’t know and at this point, I’m too exasperated to care about finding out.

I remember when I accepted every call-in, when I routinely gave up my plans to work extra, when I once had 43 hours in a week from being called in, when I worked every day of a week and more. And I will never do it again. Partially due to losing nearly $100 to taxes (F*** the government! And no, I’m not benefiting, considering I had to go into debt to get higher education), and partially because it took me way too long to figure that in the end, being that kind of employee means nothing. All I get in return is the loss of my sanity, time, and desire to stay alive. Working fewer hours, I still get that, so I may as well keep one of the three that I can.

“Don’t you ever want to be in a manager’s position?” So, I can stress out even more, physically age faster, and panic over corporate visits? So, I can tell employees time and again how much I have to go through and make them question why I took the job if it’s so miserable (I’ve never met a manager who seemed happy with their position). So I can assert how much more tired I am, how much more I have to deal with, how much worse my day is going? So I can lecture them on all the hell a manager deals with and how they don’t make it easier because they have their own problems?

Not even in my nightmares.

No, I don’t care about your corporate visit. You can’t justify any reason I should. I’m tired, I’m drained, and I have long run out of patience.

You’re on your own. Like me, and everyone else.

Hard Work… Didn’t Work

I am finished! And I’m surprised at how I did it!

My final assignment was a four-page research paper, and my final exam was one hundred questions. I finished the paper in two hours on the day it was assigned before I left school. How? Regurgitating what was in the textbook, though not verbatim. My effort was awarded with a 95, the highest grade I’ve ever received for an assignment in that class. I was fortunate if I got higher than a 70 for tests I studied for, yet lazy effort gets me my highest score. I was also the only student who turned it in on time. We were given four days to complete it.

Doesn’t end there. For my final exam, I was going the first student finished (a rarity!), and I finished in thirty minutes while the rest of my class took over an hour. My score? 91, the only A I received for a test in this class. Now, I did study for the exam, but not as much as I should’ve. In the end, I looked over my old tests for a few minutes and thought of some tricks to remember the answers to certain questions. That was a lot more helpful than studying.

Ultimately, I finished the entire program with a GPA of 3.41, which amounts to 89%, a B+. That one point will always bother me, but I passed and I’m just happy I did. I take that as proof I’m not so bad at academics. When I’m interested, that is. Not a new discovery, really.

The above said, I do not want to repeat this! These classes lasted for eight months in total, and my internship will take five weeks. I have no idea how people commit to this for years on end! Forget my age! I think I’d shoot myself if I had to juggle school and work for four years! Not to mention I barely kept my head above water with the financial struggle. Yes, it was worth it and I’m happy I did it, but traditional college can kiss my fat behind with its 2 to 4 year schedule of this! The program was fast-paced and hard to keep up with at times, but I am glad I chose a nine-month program instead of a 2 or 4-year one. It would’ve been worse if I chose the evening schedule for this program instead of the day, though still not as bad as community college.

That doesn’t mean I look down on any who goes the traditional college route. It just means I’m glad I didn’t! Eight months and I’m on to internship! I can celebrate!