Well, after much agitation, and inner turmoil, I did it. I decided to post for the new position at the Gas ‘n Sip. I don’t know if anything will come of it – the wheels move glacially here – but I feel better knowing that I have stopped feeling the victim, and taken the step to doing something about it.
I also took the step of letting my manager know what I’ve done. I don’t know what I expected, but what I got was “Ok. Thanks for letting me know.”
Either way, I do know that the disparity of my situation was making me short-tempered and resentful and preventing me from doing my best work. And that is not okay. I am better than that. My employer deserves better from me. And hopefully, this step will help me to do better.
I’ll keep you posted.
I have been seeing this little guy a lot lately. And it’s sort of how I’m feeling. I can’t seem to shake it.
Well, hmmm. Let’s see. We at the Gas ‘n Sip were told what our “annual increase” was. Hooray!, right? Yeah. No. Coupled with the increased cost of health benefits, I’m actually seeing $30 LESS in my paycheck. Awesome.
Last week, my debit card was compromised, so the bank closed it out and gave me a new one. Except they set it up incorrectly, so when I was at Whole Foods buying groceries on Saturday, my card was “not authorized”. Fantastic.
Also last week, one of my co-workers at the Gas ‘n Sip challenged me on a conference call. I’m okay with the challenge, but he wouldn’t let it go when I asked to take it offline and I ended up looking very incompetent. Brilliant.
Another Gas ‘n Sip example: apparently, they like their employees to post internally for different jobs. (I don’t know why. Asking becomes exhausting.) So, for kicks, I went to the job site and found another Slurpee Manager job, in a different department, in the same building. To be clear, it would be doing THE EXACT SAME JOB, for a different line of business. And what’s my problem, you ask? I’m glad you asked. The pay grade is a whole pay grade higher than I am currently at. For the same job. More money. Same. More. I asked my manager what I needed to do to be brought up to parity with my peers. “We’ll have to work on that.” D’ya think??
Then there is the news. I have posted before that I don’t watch the news because it is SO depressing. I get it – “if it bleeds, it leads”, or some such thing. And in the age of 24 hour news coverage, they need to fill the time with SOMETHING. But let’s just peek as a few of the more recent headlines, shall we? These are from CNN:
- Lance Armstrong doping
- France sending more troops
- Armed school guards
- Gang rape in India
- Teachers in child sex sting
- Hundreds at VA possibly exposed to HIV
- 10-year-old boy murdered by neo-Nazi dad
And it just goes on. Is it any wonder I look at pictures of cute kittens online?
So that’s what’s up with me.
What do you think? Should I apply for that other job, just for the pay bump?
As I was thinking about this post, it sounded somewhat familiar to me. I may have written something like this before; I don’t know. I started looking back through old posts, but whatever. If you’ve seen this before, feel free to move along.
I think the time has finally come to face reality.
The Gas ‘n Sip has won. I have lost.
They have won the war. They have successfully beaten me down to the breaking point, and beyond.
I’m officially waving the white flag, crying “Uncle” and I’m ready to sign peace treaties.
I just cannot do this. Anymore.
If you know me at all, you know that I like to laugh – even while at work. I think it’s important to have fun at what you are doing. But at the same time, I would describe myself as being incredibly conscientious and motivated to do a good job. I *want* things to go well. I *want* projects to succeed. If I’m researching a new Slurpee flavor, I want to make sure that what I provide reflects the care and thought that went in to making that available. I get extraordinarily frustrated when others don’t have the same drive. Or when, just before I put up the “New Flavor” sign, they throw in some sort of curve ball to change, delay, or otherwise screw up what I have worked so hard on.
I will fight and stand up for my opinions, but at some point it’s better to just agree.
Before I went on vacation, I was a colossal bitch. I know I was. And I was looking forward to the week off to sort of smooth some ruffled feathers and come back ready to go.
And then I came back.
Within 4 hours of my return? I had cried twice.
The Zen place I had been when I walked through the door? Gone.
The knots in my shoulders were back. My upset stomach was back. My exhaustion and all around ill-humor were both back.
In the week I was gone, my new Slurpee flavor project fell apart. The players had changed. The focus had changed. And once again, every conversation became a battle. Instead of working together to resolve, there was a huge amount of time spent on finger-pointing. Blaming. There may as well have been hair-pulling. It was just that bad. Something I submitted *3 WEEKS AGO* to make the new flavor a particular shade of red WAS STILL SITTING THERE, and yet somehow, it is my fault that the request is not done yet.
And while there is some benefit on looking back to what we could have done differently, addressing the problem at hand and moving past it seems to me to be a better course of action. I’m just spit-balling here, so who knows.
So this morning, after yet another round of “You suck. You screwed up. We can’t release this on time because you did/didn’t/should have/shouldn’t have…”, I am officially, but not irreparably, broken.
I’m 45 years old (tomorrow). (Yes, happy birthday to ME!)
I cannot work another 20+ years in this state of mind. I just cannot do it.
With that in mind, and to quote Mike Dooley, thoughts become things. I am going to put my request out to the Universe right here and invite the Universe to help. me. out.
I want a new career.
I want it to be creative, and fun, and growth-oriented, and educational, and altruistic, and generally just ADD to the world around me. I want to read books, and enjoy the sunshine, and be encouraged to take my vacation days. I want to make money that appropriately takes in to account my education, my work ethic, and my skills. I want to work with people who are encouraging and interesting and who challenge me to be a better person. I want to be able to challenge others to be better people too. I want to work with people who can learn from each other and who all want the same end result.
I would love to be a professional organizer – but not one of those people who tackle hoarders. I couldn’t do that. *shudder*
I would love to be an editor. Or a proofreader. Or a book reviewer.
I would love to be an event planner. Or a personal shopper. Or a writer. Or a painter. Or a professional sit-on-the-beach-and-count-grains-of-sand-er.
I want to look forward to my day and my projects and not look at the clock and think “Oh, dear goat. It’s only noon?!?!” I want to get up in the morning with the joyful anticipation of what I can bring to the table and put out into the world. And I want to go to bed each night thinking about all that I have done that day and all that I *get* to do tomorrow. (Not that I *have* to do. Big difference.)
I want to work in a place where a budget needs to be filled out once, not in 3 different place. Where status updates are given once, not 5+ times. Where EVERY. SINGLE. DECISION. does not require 5+ conference calls to make. Meetings at a table in a coffee shop? Sure!
So, Universe, what do you say? I know that there are jobs out there that fit my criteria. I know there are. If you want me to move to another state or country? I’m in. If you want me to sell my beautiful little doll house? I’ll do it. If you want me to look in certain areas? Send me a sign.
I’m ready to do this. And to do it in a big, big way.
(Also? If anyone reading this knows of something that might kinda sorta fit the bill? Let me know. It just means the Universe was waiting for me to say this out loud, so to speak.)
I don’t want to be broken any more.
A few months back, I ran out of coffee in my house and, displaying the height of laziness, I didn’t go buy more. After going through the caffeine detox, I decided to not drink caffeine anymore. The headaches are excruciating and I didn’t want to go through that again.
Since then, I have been caffeine free.
All of this is another step towards removing chemicals from my house and life.
So, what’s my point?
Today, I was getting a cup of decaf and chatting with a colleague about random stuff. She commented that decaf wasn’t going to help me. So I told her I didn’t drink caffeine. To which she said, “Well, do you still eat chocolate? There is caffeine in chocolate. You aren’t really caffeine free.”
Really? Why do people do that?
The same thing happens when I mention I am trying to cut out sugar. Heaven help me if I don’t say “processed” sugar. Because then it’s “Well, are you going to give up fruit? There’s a ton of sugar in fruit, you know.”
My friend Debra wrote about something similar not too long ago. Her story is different, and yet, the same.
Why do people do that? Why do they feel the need to make comments like that or minimize what you are trying to do or somehow act as if they are superior to you in some way?
I’m not asking them to cut out caffeine. I’m not asking them to cut out sugar, processed or otherwise. I am simply minding my own business and taking care of my own self. I don’t judge them for eating their can of soup which likely contains enough salt to satisfy a week’s worth of requirements. I did the same thing a few weeks back. The can of soup I had was beyond salty. Horrible stuff.
And people wonder why I don’t like to “share” at work. The Gas ‘n Sip is a very judgy place. I’m judgy enough towards myself; I don’t need your judgement on top of it.
Do people do this to you? Do you have a good response for a comment like that?
It’s December. 2011 has just flown by!! I’m already looking ahead to 2012.
About this time last year, I was on top of my game – feeling good and ready to make 2011 my bitch! I started the year that way too. But then, as the year progressed, I slipped back into my old ruts and habits. My word for the year was Kind. But regressing back to self-destructive behavior isn’t very kind, is it?
I was kind to others. I was kinder to myself than I had been in years past. But I’m still a work in progress.
As I look to 2012, the word that keeps coming up for me is Wellness. I know some people won’t understand that I need to take care of myself. Since I’m single and have no kids, what else am I doing? How can I *not* be taking care of myself? Right? Well, in 2012, that is my focus.
How, you ask?
1. I’ve already started eliminating beauty products with chemicals in them. My goal by the end of the year, is to use homemade or organic products only.
2. My job at the Gas ‘n Sip – I will either get a new job or get promoted. Either way, by the end of the year, I will be in a different job.
2a. I reached my absolute limit at the Gas ‘n Sip Monday. Background: You already know I am the Slurpee Manager. However, there is an exam to become certified in Slurpee creation. I have been working towards this certification for years – it’s a combination of education and hours. You have to spend a certain number of hours making Slurpees before you can take the certification exam. I? Have completed all the prerequisites and now I just have to take it. But here’s the thing. The exam is ridiculously difficult. So, in order to help the Slurpee Managers at the Gas ‘n Sip pass the exam first try, the company is hosting a prep class. YAY! The class is being held in another state. BOO! My manager said I could go. YAY! But her manager said it was too expensive to send me there.
BOO! What the phuck??????? Am I so dispensable? You can’t send me to a class to advance my career? I was so pissed. I am pretty defeated.
2b. I spent Monday evening stewing and not sleeping and feeling like a loser. But then? I got up on Tuesday, and turned on the radio, like I do every morning. The song playing was that woman screeching “You are loved, you are loved, you are really really reeeeeeeeeeeeally looooooooooooved.” You know the one I mean. The Universe has spoken. I stopped and listened. And then I realized, Slurpee Manager is what I do, not who I am. I have been beaten by them for the last time. If they don’t want to send me to a prep class? I’ll send myself to a prep class. I *will* get certified. And then #2 will be realized.
3. By the end of the year, I will have all but eliminated processed food from my diet. I can’t promise to give up pizza, because, c’mon. It’s pizza! I’m human, not a robot.
4. I won’t quit the group I joined. I still think it’s a tough group to get into, but everyone is so nice and I totally support what they do, so I’m going to tough it out. It’s worth it.
There will be more that I will add to this list before the end of the year. I may have slid downhill a bit this year, but I plan to keep trying. 2012 will help me regain that ground and move ahead again.
Have you ever gone to see a Notary Public? You know, when you need your signature verified – you might need a notarized copy of something? I’m a Notary. It’s not hard to become one. And normally I don’t even consider it to be a big deal. Until…
Monday last, after my latest trip to Canadia, I was back in the office, thinking about how much I wished I was somewhere, anywhere, else. Then the local Director of Foreign Affairs asked if he could talk to me in the conference room. My first thought? “Oh, goat. Now what??”
The DFA never, NEVER, talks about his personal life at work. Ever. So we sit down and he says, “You may know that I got divorced 5 years ago.” No, how would I know. YOU NEVER TALK ABOUT YOURSELF. He went on: “I have been with my girlfriend for about a year and a half and we are getting married.” Me: Okay. Congratulations? Him: “You are a Notary, right?” Me: OMG! Can I marry you?? Him: “That’s what I was hoping you would do. It will be a very small ceremony. It will be at ___ hotel, then we’ll have champagne. No one here knows.”
Side note: only 3 states allow their Notaries to perform marriage ceremonies. I happen to live in one of them.
What happened next? In true MagandMoo fashion, I proceeded to freak out. Why? Because this is a HUGE event in someone’s life and what if I screw up? I knew that this was in no way about me. At all. But I kept thinking that if I didn’t do a good job, the focus would then shift to me and take it from the bride. I didn’t want that. It was their day. I was just given the honor of being a part of it.
I found some non-religious based vows online and made a few tweaks to them. Then I printed them out so that I could practice on the cats. (They were so no interested.)
So, yesterday, I went to ___ hotel at the appropriate time. I was the first one there – which was fine, because I totally thought I would be late. The DFA and his friends showed up and proceeded to give everyone a glass of cognac. At 10am. Sure. Why not.
Everyone milled around a bit for about 30 minutes. Then we hear the elevator ding, and the bride was there. We got into position and the bride came in – so lovely, so young, so giggly – in a beautiful dress, elbow length gloves, hair all pretty.
After I read the first part of what I had down-loaded, I looked at the groom – normally very serious and business-like at work. He had tears in his eyes. It was so sweet. So touching. And I knew I had found the right things to say.
We did the intentions portion. Then the exchange of rings. The groom started cheering. I had to stop him to get to the part of “You may kiss your bride”. She kept giggling.
The whole ceremony took about 15 minutes. It was his 2nd wedding, but her first. She looked so happy. Even the DFA looked happier than I have ever seen him. There were lots and lots of photos – I believe I was fortunate to avoid most – if not all – of the lenses. I was hugged and thanked and told it was an honor that I had done this thing for them. But to me? *I* was the one honored to have been part of it. No one else from the Gas ‘n Sip was there. And I can’t tell anyone! It’s not my story to tell.
When I got my Notary license, I always thought it would be fun to marry people. But then when the time came? I really *got* what a big deal this was. I was able to make this young bride’s dream come true. I changed the lives of these 2 people. Forever.
I don’t know if this union will last – I hope it does. They are certainly adorable together. But I do know that I will forever thank them for granting me the honor of being a part of their day in such a personal way.
So what did you do this weekend?