1/13: Job Memories
11:30 a.m.
• So last Friday I gave my notice. Now I really didn’t know what to expect. Oddly enough, with my social retardation and lackluster people skills, the last time I left one job for another job in the same area was May of 1995. Well, I got fired in 1996, so if you want to count that, I have no problem. Other than that, every job up until this most recent one I left because of relocation. So when I gave my letter, which basically said, "I’m going to be no longer working here,” I wasn’t sure if they would say, “Good. Get out,” or if the exchange would be more amicable. To my surprise, the whole thing went rather well. While I was ready to leave that day, I was more than content to stay two more weeks and finish up my work. Then again, had I left right then and there, those people would have been up poop creek without a paddle or nose plugs.
So for the last week I’ve been working full-time and my soon-to-be former place of employment while working part-time at my soon-to-be-current place of employment. Basically, I’m doing stuff at home during the evenings for the latter place and I’ve put in 60+ hours between the two this past week. Man, I remember back during my college days I used to do this shit all the time. Not only was I a full-time student but I also worked full-time and participated in a few school activities that took up about 20 hours a week. Man were those days a bear. Then after I graduated and moved to Sappy Valley I worked two jobs, seven days a week and 60+ hours a week – all for shit pay. That was another fun 14 months of my life. Now I make decent money and work 40 hours. Christ did I turn into a lazy bastard, especially since my jobs now are white-collar and involve much sitting. My college jobs dealt with customer service and moving around.
This brings back a memory to my Ohio employment, which Swift Terror can attest to. I worked at a test-scoring facility, and while the work was seasonal, it was very jam-packed, which meant plenty of overtime. It always baffled me that people who worked at this place on a seasonal basis would not take full advantage of the wage benefits. For example, if you put in a 40-hour workweek you got an extra $50. If you worked overtime you got time-and-a-half. Many times I’d wonder why people I supervised opted just to work 35 hours per week and no overtime. Me – I was a money-grubbing bastard. After all, on those days that you worked late or worked on weekends, you didn’t really work as hard as you did during the course of a normal workday. Why? Because you were going ABOVE and BEYOND what you were asked to do, so there wasn’t nearly as much scrutiny. The work was going to get done regardless, so what was the point of working harder just because you were getting paid more? Besides, on most of these “panic Saturdays” the bosses above me would bring in bagels or doughnuts and we’d take longer breaks.
Now while I jumped at every chance to make more money, I mentioned there were some people that didn’t. I didn’t agree with their rationale, but there were some instances when I could see why they didn’t care. I had rent, bills and other expenses to pay. Some employees were college students and didn’t have to worry about any of that. Fair enough. But there were also people with the same responsibilities I had that didn’t have the financial means in place to be able to “afford” not getting a few extra dollars. After all, once a project was over, you could have all the time in the world to “relax” when you’re unemployed. But the best part of all this is that these same people that needed the money and didn’t take full advantage of the work available to them would bitch and moan at the end of a project because it ended early. There was one time a person got pissed off because a project ended early and she was only a few hours away from being eligible to collect unemployment. This was the same person that took several weeks off that past season to go on VACATION and didn’t take advantage of the available week or two offered to her before several projects to do prepwork. Man, I used to LOVE doing that. Want me to set up tables and chairs? Want me to sharpen pencils? Make copies? Shit. I’m there. And I was.
And here I wanted to talk about my last Saturday at my place of employment and how this would be the last time I'd do my job with it being a winter month and the air conditioner turned on. (Well, maybe not the AC, but something blows out of those vents during the weekend when the building's owners are there and it's not heat.) Boy, did I go off the beaten path on this one. While I’m on my former job in Ohio, I almost want to bust out the “clerk pimp” story, but I just don’t feel like it at this time. Perhaps in the future, along with the conclusion of my Top 103 Posters list.
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