So this is a touchy one. But recently it has come to my attention that at the time I was promoted 4 males were hired and paid a higher salary than me.
So how does that work?
Why am I not worth as much as my male colleagues?
We have the same targets.
The same standards to meet.
The same expectations.
So why are my efforts valued at less?
I don’t know the answers to these questions yet. But I will certainly be asking them to my manager.
It’s a bloody disgrace.
I haven’t posted anything in ages. I wish I could say that it’s because i found a love for my job. Or that I got a new one.
So it’s almost Christmas. I know what I’m about to say makes me a huge c u next Tuesday. But I hate it.
I love decorating my house, I love wearing my festive jumpers, I love present shopping.
I just hate my god damn job at Xmas so much it make me want to curl up inside and die.
I get no extra time off. Infact next week will be one of my busiest weeks. I’ll work the most hours.
It will be a blurry fleet between work and bed.
How sad and Pathetic is that?!
What’s that? Why can’t I have time off?
Well you see, I’m simply not allowed. Of course we are indirectly told this. But when an event has been arranged for all 6 days excluding Xmas day that you have to oversee how the fuck are you meant to get a day off?!
I hate that on Xmas eve it will be my fault that some asshole can’t get a tub of sweets as the leaning tower of quality street has finally sold.
I hate that they will moan that the 100 extra cases of cinnamon that set on display have disappeared leaving none. That I’ve personally ruined the mulled wine youve made for years. It’s my fault that an annual tradition has been ruined.
I hate that it’s my fault the person in front grabbed the last 10 selection boxes and now little willy won’t have a stocking filler.
Well do you know what?! I hate the fact I don’t get to fill my stockings or make my traditional mulled wine. Or sit down and eat my tub of sweets.
Do you know why? Because I’m too busy listening to ungrateful asses winge and moan because they only finished work on the 21st and didn’t have time to sort all this as they were busy on Christmas nights out
So here’s to the real heroes at Christmas. The ones who miss out, the ones who work hard, long hours and crawl home with two sore feet knowing they’ll have to do it all again tomorrow.
The ones who don’t have a wage to reflect the work they do.
While you’re all tucking in to your feasts on Xmas day. We will all be dreading the crap we will have to listen too on Boxing Day.
This is a tough one. I’ve been promoted! Which is brilliant. Career wise, I’m at the top of the ladder in my job. The next step would be a field job. — no ta!
But, I just don’t know if I’m happy.
Ill have to try, only an idiot would walk away now. I think.
On a brighter note, I still want to kill them all. They’ll be working a lot harder now, I’m taking no prisoners.
My holidays are over.
I have spent all day in bed depressed and actually feeling sick at the thought of it.
This is not normal!
Only 13 weeks until my next break. It can’t come quick enough.
Back to the job hunt tomorrow.
Not all jobs could be this horrendous?!
I haven’t blogged in ages. I’ve been off for two weeks.
Praise The Lord.
But, it’s approaching, my return is inevitable. As the week goes on the dread is setting in.
Is this what it feels like in a horror film, when you’re hiding under the bed and the killer walks in to the room?! I’d say so.
I still hate my job. I’m still working with the same plebs.
I might stand at my local recruitment office and sing a rendition of “rescue me”
Why will no one hire me?!
Or better still, why can’t I just win the god damn lotto.
I’m off for two weeks in just 6 more working days.
I can literally see the seconds ticking by.
Why does this always happen?
Of course my two weeks off will go by in the blink of an eye.
All the best things involve waiting, holidays, parties, Christmas, pay day, weekends.
Who the hell invented waiting? I bet they didn’t do too much of it, that, or they were a miserable sod who experienced no joy in their lives.
I hate them.
Yesterday was Friday. The start of the weekend. An easy day in the office.
Is it fuck?!
Friday is one of our biggest day.
We have the largest delivery and our turnover is always considerably higher.
So when packing out a huge delivery on my own the last thing I wanted to be greeted with, 5 minutes before home time was 8 cartons of cream lying splattered up and down the aisle.
The culprit just walked off too.
Fair enough, YOU aren’t paid to clean the mess. But YOU MADE IT.
I have never seen so much cream in my life.
It was everywhere. Dripping down shelving, all over the floor. Splashed against supplier stands.
If I didn’t know any better, I would hands down swear the wee bastards opened the lid and threw it everywhere before dropping it on the floor.
25 minutes unpaid, 2 missed buses and one pair of work trousers in the bin later I got to go home.
Wherever you are, know this, I will get you back.
So the next time you see someone on their hands and knees cleaning up some other fuckers mess, don’t step over them. Bend down, offer them an hand.
Is it too hard too do?!