Another Day in Paradise


I understand most of humanity despises their jobs. But I’m going to rant anyways!

Working for a multi-million dollar business, you’d expect a company could and would take care of their employees. But when you literally tear up while driving into work after almost 5 years of being there, it hits you…….

I started here the days the doors opened (well, 2 days later, had another job where I was finishing out my 2 weeks). Like any fresh, new biz, sometimes you have to commit a little more of yourself for the sake of their success (5 years later, I’d realize it was never for the sake of mine). But in the back of your mind, this is the ideal industry to get your foot in the door with. Brand new, show them what you’re made of and you’ll move right along that ladder.

Working 11 days back to back, 6pm-2am shift on Friday, 9am-5pm shift on Saturday? Heck yah, I got this. Scattered schedules, no days off, missing family functions, but the rewards will surely be worth the sacrifice, right? ………..   Right?!

After about the 2 year mark, I secured a 9-5 shift, Tuesday through Saturday. And I was fine with that, but I had my eyes set on a Monday through Friday. Asked a million times if that would be feasible. Never was. Over the course of turnover (employees quitting and new hires replacing), I finally achieved ‘seniority’ status. In my mind, not to them. I was given the responsibility, I was given the trust, was never given a raise but …. again, show them what you’re capable of and the rewards will outweigh the woes.

After about another year and a 1/2, a co-worker who had only been there maybe a year was handed a 9-5 shift (?!?, well that seems less than just but do your thang, boss!)


Monday – Friday………….

ah, haaaaaaaaaaaaale nah!

My level of professionalism took a nose dive into pro’ghettoism. Time for change? Yep.

So a position was created, that had only been a rumor for 3 years at that point. Aim, shoot, score! Don’t get me wrong, I had been propositioned for other jobs here (showed them what I was capable of, earned their trust, but….$$$ talks) (and it was rather quiet..)

So, the Director had talked to me about this position coming up, explained what the pay range would be, which was acceptable. Mind you, not at all great, but being a new position and new for me, it was acceptable. Position is open, I didn’t even have to really “interview” for it which was a slight pat on the back. Then boss says what it will pay……

ah haaaale nah

He was under-offering what he already told me it would pay. I knew how he was, bottom lines are more important than a good staff, or in Layman’s terms, he was cheap. I said absolutely not. Knowing how this company is with giving wage increases (the fact that they supposedly don’t) there is no way I can walk into this position, with the promise of loads more responsibility and duties and being comfortable with the fact that what I walk into it making, is what I will likely be making 5 years down the road. Oh yah, and that it’s thousands below what was offered as starting pay.

Long story even longer, we haggled, and while I still did not get what I wanted, I got the number up.

Plus, for the first time in the history of ever, I was  (drumroll……) a salaried employee! I finally felt like a big girl (go me, high five) (sidestep- I changed the color of the font and can’t get it back to the original, sorry..) Of course, with salary, comes ‘obligations’. The theory that “you’re always on the clock” so you may have to stay a few minutes past 5, or work a Saturday. 

Here my mind goes, right back to the journey for the reward! So, I commit. I work events that entail evenings and weekends. I had to shorten my visit with my new baby niece to run off to work a Saturday event, outside of my normal business hours but hey, eventually this will get me somewhere, right?… Right?!

Fast forwarding past the mundane details (like why certain Managers didn’t complete their reports correctly or why certain Managers aren’t at work yet… which all I hear is why are we paying them to be Managers if they clearly can’t do their jobs!), let’s take a trip to the new overtime pay policy, established in December of 2016 by our admirable government. The one that says something to the effect of if your position requires so much overtime to be worked, your salary shall be no less than $47,500. Pvvff, that was WaaAAaayyyyyy more than what any of us were making. Well, managers, supervisors, administrative roles (<- me).. So just what will this cheap ass company do now.. hmmm

The answer: Knock myself, and the 2 “coordinator” positions back to hourly status, so as not to have to pay us $47K, but those managers who can’t do their reports right (after 4 years of doing them) and work, on a good day, 10-ish to 3:30-ish (not a full 8 hours, let alone “overtime”) get more money (for doing absolutely nothing more).

With salary, went our vacation time. Now, to get a day off, we have to work a month to earn enough hours for 1 day. Vacations? Who needs vacation, clearly your employer values your hard work so much to the point you can never leave…

And these are the rewards that I, and others, have worked nearly 5 years to get. Welcome back to square one, we hope you enjoy your stay. Thank you for dedicating 40 full hours, sometimes more thanks to pointless bantered meetings, while the salaried team comes and goes at their discretion. While one is on the phone for an hour of her shift planning her wedding, or coming in at 11 because she had an oil change. While the other purposely plans his schedule to avoid working over 40 hours, because why bother when you were handed a raise for being half ass already. While another only works “so many hours”, because the boss sees him here 10 hours a day not knowing the first 2 are often spent paying bills online and keeping us updated on the giraffe baby status..

Right?….. WRONG!












Pick. It. UP!

Dear teenagers and husbands, is there a deficiency that wives and mothers are not privy to? Something that says “I used this washrag, now I must leave it here on the counter for days and days until somebody else moves it”




Same goes for “Whoa, looks like my trash missed the trash can and landed on the floor. It should stay there until somebody else picks it up” and “I used these dishes but am in no way obligated to also clean them, that is clearly someone else’s job to do”.

Tupperware: I go to work. My stepdaughter attends college classes TWO measly days out of the week. We have tupperware of all shapes and sizes. Specific foods require certain dishes. Where is the one that I need? It wasn’t in the pantry. It wasn’t in the sink. Did it develop legs and go for a walk?

Stepdaughter, who just came in from a day at school: “uh, it’s in my car? I had to use it for lunch?” You should have read that in a snotty manner.

Me: “So, although you used it, and are now done using it, and just now came in from your vehicle, why did it not make the trip with you into the house? When I need dishes, I tend to look in the pantry, but by all means, I’ll start checking your car” “So, while you are standing there staring at me like I’m a 3-eyed unicorn caterpillar, could you find it in your busy schedule to run ALLLLL the way back out to your car to get it.. and wash it.. because I’d like to use it for my lunch tomorrow????”

It’s been 2 weeks, have I seen that dish?

Pure laziness! Just because I am the only one in the household with a sense of cleanliness and responsibility, there are 2 other adults residing within. Can anybody please explain to me what I must have missed in home ec. class? Kids and spouses get free passes or something? Moms must, by law, clean everything, cook everything (I actually do enjoy cooking but it’d be great if I didn’t also have to: )sweep everything, put everything into it’s rightful place, pick up the trash that she didn’t drop, clean the crumbs off the counter from the food she didn’t make. Also, while going to work full time. Keeping track of due dates to make sure each bill gets paid every month. Carry the jacket to the closet that the wearer of thought added to the decor of the sofa. The empty bottles of shampoo left behind in the shower so long that they get that ring of muck around the base…. Nobody notices the toothpaste splatters on the bathroom mirror. The dog hair blowing around the floor like a tumbleweed.

Wives and mothers have long been given the taboo of ‘bitch’ or ‘crazy’, ‘snappy’, ‘nagging’. Does this article explain w h y that may be?! We don’t aim for it! We don’t wake up and smile and think ‘d’aww, look at that snot rag laying on the floor, my hopes and joys and dreams can only be fulfilled by stopping everything I’m doing to pick that up’

It’s lazy. It’s outright disrespectful. I don’t know why anybody has children! I raised 2 stepkids.. you hear that? TWO that weren’t even mine. I never wanted kids but I willingly put  myself through hell for the sake of marriage. One has since moved out. The other? oh dear baby Jesus in Heaven, her luggage can’t be packed soon enough! I’ve mom’d for 16 years, people! I’ve had it. Done………….. But, she’s the baby of the family and has always been spoiled like the baby she is and has no grasp of reality or responsibility. Thanks, hubby and in-laws, tough love just wasn’t in their vocabulary. Hence, why we don’t make baby Huey lift a finger. Hence, why I’ve still never seen that damn tupperware bowl. I paid for it, but evidently we can call dibs on them. I wasn’t aware.

Image result for baby huey

I have established the post-it awareness program. That’s totally made up…by me. See, I buy things that I’d like to snack on later that week or so. Things I look forward to chowing down on when I get home from a long day of work. Things that apparently my stepdaughter believes were specially purchased for HER. So things I did not get to chow down. #livid So, post-its were introduced to random items in the fridge and cabinets. Pathetic, yes. Necessary, also yes. I mean, if they can claim dishes, why can’t I claim food!?

I thought this program had everyone well-trained, so I backed off. No sooner did the labels stop, than so did the joy of my delicious rewards 😦 Labels are back in business!

#donttouchmyshit #donthavekids #eatbirthcontrollikeitscandy #toughlove #respectyourparents




Ohio Drivers

When it is just RAIN… not even a full out monsoon, just a mist, drivers in this state suddenly lose all sense of how to operate a vehicle.

WTH, Ohio?! My general route is along the Southeast of Columbus, primarily 317, aka S. Hamilton Rd and Rt 23. HoLy SEMI’s. You’d think driving machinery of this magnitude, they’d have to take special cours— oh wait, yah, they do! Yet, semi drivers can’t seem to grasp the concept of s h i f t i n g.

BTW- FYI, I’m no Einstein, but I did attend elementary school and I am familiar with numbers. If the first number on the speed limit sign is a ‘5’, and the second number is shaped the same way… guess what- it’s another ‘5’. Drivers, let’s put these 2 together (uh oh, did I lose you when I said ‘2’ ?). Dang.. Allow me to take a different angle with this: When the above numbers (excluding the ‘2’) are put side by side, what do we get?

Do we get 47?… no

39? … nope

52? … nope

In fact, that would be 55. The speed limit is 55. WHY does nobody else see this.. Speed limit signs are not suggestions! They are the permitted speed in which you can legally travel. So, if you feel the need to mosey along at a whopping 42, get the hell out of my way.

I don’t know who just drives around for a leisurely stroll, or has the time to. I have somewhere to be or my happy ass would be parked in the comfort of my couch!

I literally question fate when grandpa time or betty no-where-better-to-be pull out in front of me. I question life, I question everything I’ve ever known. They must have been sent to drive ahead of me, but what could possibly be the reason why. Would there be an accident up ahead, therefore, this will slow me down so I am not a victim? Because then I’d have to deal with insurance and legalities.. And I just don’t have time for that. I have a job, I have a family, I have commitments and obligations. Who would feed the dogs, cook the dinner, run the errands. I mean, I contemplate everything! Whilst screaming obscenities at the driver ahead of me. It’s a true mind game. My anxiety levels are at capacity. I could sincerely get disability for road rage.

You have arrived at your destination. Before I know it, I’m where I was trying to be all along. Could have gotten there 5 minutes sooner, I’d be 3 cars ahead in this drive-thru, or 5 people up in this line. Maybe that product would not have been sold out 5 minutes ago. If I punched into work 5 minutes earlier, I could leeeeave 5 minutes earlier.

Thus, avoiding the particular traffic I’d be in 5 minutes later.

This is how my mind works, but this is just the tip, yo’. My blogs will be the #truth of adulthood from my perspective.