on a more serious note

I wouldn't say that I hate my job. That seems too strong. But it's close.

I do a lot of receiving and stocking, that's really the part that I "enjoy" the most. I do a lot of ringing as well, that part isn't always bad but it can also just be the worst thing ever. Sometimes after people have just been ridiculously rude to you again and again, you sort of lose your ability to have any sort of customer service.

If I were paid what I feel I deserve to be paid, though, I think I would probably have a much lower level of job hatred.

Let's just put it out there. I skirt around it a lot. I'm embarrassed by it. I actually just felt my tear ducts spring into action when I let myself say that I'm embarrassed, but I am. I've worked here for five years now, three consecutive, and I make exactly $0.48 above the Ohio Minimum Wage.

The one advantage to making so little money is that I really sympathize with people trying to support themselves making minimum wage. Even making a dollar more than minimum wage. I'm lucky and I get a lot of help with my bills. I don't understand how anyone could support themselves on this salary, let alone children. But that's another blog. This one's about me.

I work hard. Harder than most of my co-workers. A lot of them are older and slower. What takes me an hour would take them the whole day.

The people who sit behind a desk and take tickets? They make more than I do.

I feel undervalued and underpaid. I was promoted and then it was given away to someone else. And I just sat there and took it, like it was fine. As if I had no problem with it at all, as if I agreed with them.

A lot has changed since then. I'm a more confident person. I can say with complete certainty that I am important to this place, that they don't operate as smoothly without me. I can make a line disappear, pick up the store in about thirty minutes and I'm faster at stocking, not least because I can lift more. I can carry a box most of my co-workers would need to get a cart to move, that alone makes me much quicker.

But the problem with this realization that I deserve more is that, at this job, I can't really get it. We're a non-profit. For two years "no one" has gotten a raise. (I never really figured out if the CEO and his billions of BMWs are included in this no one) So it feels like I'm working really hard to climb a mountain by just getting really good at circling the bottom, waiting for them to open the gates so I can really give it a go. All the opportunities for advancement are so far off. I'm like a vulture, circling other people's positions, waiting for them to perish so I can steal their spot. Can I keep working hard for no reward for years and years to achieve something that might not even be that fulfilling?

I don't know. Some days it seems fine; some days I feel so intensely unhappy. But what DO I want to do? What do I want to be? What WOULD be fulfilling? Can I reach my goals here and make room for new ones at the same time?

The future is always uncertain. I think this growing unhappiness--this growing feeling that I'm worth more, smarter than this, better than this--is the motivation I have been waiting for. If I keep going and let it keep building inside of me then I think that's the energy I'm going to harness that will take me down new avenues to fulfillment. I cannot be scared of this, either, even though it might be scary. Sometimes I'm scared to change anything lest it throw me dangerously off-balance. But I think when I have enough drive, enough motivation, then I'll be okay.

The one thing I am sure of? I'm worth way more than $7.78.

I'll have you know that that FLY is a war hero.

Unless you are Hayley Mills, I am sure you can all relate to inexplicable hatred. You hate that guy at FYE who always tells you he needs your autograph on that credit card reciept. You hate your neighbor because she always leaves her trash can out for like three days. You hate the guy who drives the green Kia because he never leaves enough room to park behind him (and he's about two feet from the curb). Its easy to focus all of your frustrations on these people because not only are they frustrating, but that's all you know about them. That guy at FYE could volunteer away all of his free time on your favorite causes, he could agree with your political views exactly, he could be your best friend if you'd met under different circumstances... You just don't know. All you know is that he always asks for your autograph and that's really effing annoying.

So what happens when you finally learn more about this person? When a co-worker tells you that guy that you hate because he never says hi is just really shy and actually loves Sailor Moon and Ugly Betty and is awesome? When that guy at FYE recommends a CD to you and it ends up being the best CD ever? Personally, I become overwhelmed by guilt. I've spent who knows how long bitching about this person to any number of people and now they suddenly have some redeeming qualities. It's easy to hate George W. Bush but if I was stuck in an elevator with him and he had two joints in his pocket and we got to talking and when the elevator finally came back on I was somehow a little disappointed... I'd feel bad. Bad about anything I'd said. Sure, there's all this bad stuff... But what about that special time in the elevator when he became a cool human being that I liked?

Today, I am guilty. Marlene is volunteer here. A few of the volunteers are wonderful women. I accept that they are old and know a whole bunch of stuff and I like it when they pat me on the head and say, "I always forget that you're only 21". They're the toughest crowd, you know. They move slowly. Computers stump them. But for the most part they are nice to talk to and nice to have so that I don't have to rot in the "adult" store and can keep on dissecting owl pellets or making potholders or whatever it is that I do. There are two that I do not care for. No, not at all. Doris and Marlene are awful. They're rude, they're entitled (they've lived long and cushy lives!) and they're the reason old people have a rep for being annoying and old. The phone rings. "Who IS this," someone demands. Must be one of those two. Why are they calling? Computer problem. Its always the same and its always annoying.

Recently, Marlene has decided that she wants to be on the payroll. That's right, for some unknown reason, she would like to come in and work in our children's store two additional days. For money. I could understand her prescence before since it was free and all, but this seemed ludicrous. She is constantly at war with our merchandiser since she's got that amazing sense of entitlement and moves things around as she sees fit. Its gotten to the point where the merchandiser has threatened to threaten our boss with the classic, "Its HER OR ME!" (Which never works out. I find that you should make the other person so miserable that they screw themselves with the ole "them or me"). I was called over this morning to help her with a computer problem. She told me she was seeing the "leaves", which is the desktop background. "Does it say CAM at the bottom anyplace?" "No." I went over and, sure enough, she's somehow clicked out of the only program that needs to be open. How does one accidentally exit a program that asks you twice if you're sure you want to? It boggles the mind! So over I went. "You just need to click on CAM..... Double click... Click and click again... Click twice in a row.... Ok, there ya go." And its always that simple.

I complained about that a LOT. Its annoying! And we're going to pay her for this? We're going to put her alone in a store where she may not be able to have someone come help her when she messes up the computer. I told my boss all of this. My boss told me she would be a good "grandmother type" to have in the children's store. I just screwed up my face and said, "I don't really get that from her." And then.... she suddenly became a human.

I went to relieve her for lunch and she said, "Do you think you could think of some things I should learn about computers to teach me? I really feel comfortable with you, Annie. Do you think I need to take a course or something?"

Uh.
Buh.
Guh.
I am a horrible person.

She knows she's bad at computers. She wants to learn about them but she doesn't know how. She wants my help.

I suppose the only way to atone is to teach her some things and shut my big mouth. Doesn't she know she is a flat character? The moral is, of course, that you shouldn't just hate a person because there is way more to them than just that annoying thing they always do. A lesson, I suspect, I will continue relearning until the day I die. I bet my last words will be, "If that fucking nurse brings me ham one more time...".