I am coming down with a cold, an arthritis flare up started, and a blizzard is expected today. To say I’m not having a good week is about right. I mean, a good writing week. The blizzard isn’t helping matters.
Considering the college isn’t closing and work isn’t closing and we’re expecting 20 – 25 cm of snow (that’s something like 8 – 10 inches for you Americans out there) and the clearance on my car is more like 15cm (or about 6 inches).
“Don’t approach shop lifters, your life is more important than our product.”
“Even in a blizzard you are working, people still need craft supplies.”
No, no, you can’t say the one and then not the other. But it basically amounts to: my work doesn’t want us getting injured on the property but if we die on the way there or out again that’s our own fault even though I’ve had managers in the past threaten to write me up because the snow was hip deep on a full grown man (who was not short) and my car literally could not move.
I mean, it could rock back and forth, of course, but that’s as far as it got.
So, I’m drained from the cold and the pain from the arthritis and when the anxiety started… I was done with this day before I left the house.
I don’t have the option of calling in to work. (see above)
I didn’t have the option of not coming to school. Apparently, a few years ago, the person in charge of all that didn’t shut down the school until taxis and buses also shut down. So there were stranded students sleeping at the school because they had nowhere to go.
I don’t care if we live in Canada, screw you if you do that. Especially with threat of docked marks, black marks on our records, or write ups.
A lot of people are like, “oh, just get a hotel room for the night.”
Do you know how much I make?
Basically, not only do you want me to risk my life, you now want me to pay you so I can work.
I don’t make enough in a shift to pay for a hotel room, I don’t make enough in three freaking shifts to pay for a hotel room. Or a motel room. Or a freaking dog house. Can’t sleep in my car, that’s a good way to die. Can’t spend the night at work because if you do, even if you can’t physically leave the parking lot, you’re fired.
This is so freaking stupid.
The closer you get to the Bay of Fundy, the worse the snowfall will get. Guess who lives closer to the Bay of Fundy.
I’d have no problem if it was 10 cm. I mean, I’d be a little anxious about driving, but I’d know I was getting home.
And with the co-worker gone, I’m now responsible for running her area through peak season. Which means I’m not getting days off. I’m not getting any sort of a break over my winter break.
I look worn out and it’s so fucking stupid. But, hey, at least the store doesn’t suffer and they don’t lose money.
Sometimes I really hate humans. And stupid greed.
Just running that position through peak is stressful, if you want to keep up on things. I can run it and keep it ahead and on time throughout, but I’ve walked into someplace that’s behind and is continually behind. And I’m already struggling to right things because it’s like any change, no one wants to do it but I’ve got sixteen freaking balls in the air and a seventeenth was added.
At some point, I’m probably going to end up saying, “I don’t care what you think. Do it the company way.”
Except it’d probably come out more like, “I don’t care what you think. Do it the company way.”
I have seventeen balls in the air so the first thing to take a hit would be my writing. And it has, I’m exhausted, though it could just be from the pain and the cold draining me. I don’t get time between school and work because I head to work and start right away because I have to devote as much time as possible.
If it was functioning, yes, a manager wouldn’t be needed. But to get it functioning, you need a full-time manager or people who are willing to change when you say something.
“This is the expectation…”
… I just looked out the window and witnessed what looked like our student body president walking into the school in knee high boots and a skirt that came down to about mid-thigh in a blazer that was open and a blouse underneath. Head down, clearly cold.
But at least you’re fashionable, woman. That’s all that really matters.
Ugh, I’m super anxious and tired and that’s making me bitter and cranky.